Making New Scars
by Anfield
Summary: My first attempt at fan fic. Writing a new character into SOA. Story will center around her and around Jax, but all characters should eventually be involved. Note: Gets a bit sexually graphic in later chapters. You were warned.
1. Chapter 1

When V. came to Charming, she came on a bike. It wasn't her preferred mode of transport, but she was running scared, and it was what was available. Little did she know that it was the bike that would get her in the most trouble of all.

Charming is a nice town. It's picturesque. The day V. got there, though, it was really fucking hot. She was in jeans and an a-shirt and was dripping. The bike was hotter than she was--too hot, and smoking black. First stop was going to have to be a garage. Luckily, Charming isn't a very big town, so it only took a minute to find one. Good thing it didn't take any longer-the bike was sputtering by the time V. pulled up and cut the engine.

Climbing off the bike and pulling off her helmet, V. looked around. Some repos, a couple of cars up on lifts, and a whole bunch of motorcycles, all of which were in a hell of a lot better shape than hers was. As she walked up to take a closer look at them, a guy came out of the garage. Dressed in dirty jeans and a sleeveless tee, he wiped his greasy hands on a rag as he approached her.

"Hey there darlin'. Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I hope so. I've been riding for days and my bike's fucked. Overheated, I know, but I think there's something else wrong." V. jerked her head towards the parked bike. As he walked towards it, and towards V., she was glad for her sunglasses. She was staring. He was tall, built big but not huge, and gorgeous. Dirty blonde hair to his collar, sparkling eyes, and a smile that lit him up. There was something, too, about the way he moved. Predatory, graceful, self-assured.

Before turning his attention to the bike, V. could see he was sizing her up.

_I can't be making a very pretty picture_, she thought. _In old clothes, with helmet hair, sweaty, beat up._

But he didn't seem repulsed.

_Jesus. I shouldn't even be thinking about what he's seeing looking at me, or how he looks. The last thing I need in this town is a guy. I need to get my bike fixed and keep moving._

"Was it smoking black?" he asked.

"Yeah. For a few miles now."

"You got a lot bigger problems than being overheated. I'll take a look." He peered against the sun at her. "You're not from around here. I'd recognize someone looks like you."

She couldn't help it, she blushed. There was just something charming about him. Dammit.

"No. Just passing through. Passing through quickly." It came out sounding nastier than she'd intended it to.

"Alright." He backed away, holding up his hands, still smiling. "Nobody's holding you hostage. But you ain't goin' much farther on that heap." He turned his attention to the bike. "Yeah. I can take a look, sweetheart, but..." He shakes his head.

Suddenly, V. was exhausted. The days of riding feel like weeks, the weeks before them like years. Now this. One more fucking thing. Her shoulders slumped. She sighed. The man studied her face. His eyes were curious, compassionate.

"Look, it's too goddamn hot to make any big decisions now. Why don't you stay in town tonight, let me take a look at this, and figure out your play in the morning?"

Something about his face made her think, briefly, that she could trust him. A dangerous thought. But there wasn't really another option. If the bike wasn't going anywhere, V. thought, she was better off here than on the side of the highway.

"OK. Is there a motel or something around here? I could use a shower anyway."

"Yeah." He smiled again, not trying to hide his gaze as his eyes ran up and down her body. "And you _could_ use a shower."

She smirked, then grabbed her pack off the back of the motorcycle. "Which way?"

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "That way. Too far too walk, though. Give me a minute, I'll give you a ride."

V.'s first instinct was to refuse. She didn't need any more interaction with this guy than was strictly necessary. But she was so tired. "OK. Thanks."

The man turned away, headed back into the shop. Just after he disappeared, two more men appeared. V. tensed as they approached. One man was older, shorter and heavy, with a frizzy head of hair and glasses. The other was tall, with a thin, scarred face. Both were wearing cuts. _Sons of Anarchy MC_. _Of course. The shop, the line of nice motorcycles. This was a club house._ V. rolled her eyes behind her sunglasses. _Should have fucking known._

"Hi there princess." The younger man spoke with a brogue--Irish, probably. Neither man tried to hide their assessment of her, looking her up and down. "Something we can do for you?"

"No. Thanks." V. spoke tightly.

"You sure?" The older man smiled as he spoke. "That your man's bike?"

"No." V. didn't smile. "Mine."

The men exchanged a glance. It was one V. recognized. A chick on a bike? Intriguing.

"In that case," the man with the brogue spoke again, coming closer, "I'd be happy to take a look at it for you."

The blonde man returned, coming up behind the other two. Now he, too, was wearing a cut. V. noticed, as he approached, that his chest bore a patch reading "V. President." _Good Christ,_ she thought. _I sure know how to pick 'em._

"Hey, Jax," the older man spoke to the blonde man. "We're headed to LuAnn's. But if the lady here needs help, it can wait."

Jax smirked and shook his head. "Go ahead. I got this."

The Irishman whistled low. "I bet you do, Jacky boy." He again looked at V. "You going to introduce us to your new friend?"

V. drew herself up. Best to be as polite as possible_,_ she thought, until she could get the hell out of here_._ "My name's V."

The Irishman smiled. "V. Nice. I'm Chibs."

The older man extended his hand. "Bobby."

V. took off her glove before shaking hands with each of them.

"And I'm Jax." He smiled lazily again. "It's nice to meet you...V." As he spoke, his gaze raked over her again. She felt a little chill in the heat. There was definitely something predatory in that stare. He motioned towards the motorcycle at the end of the row. "You ready to go get that shower?"

Both Bobby and Chibs smirked as they mounted their motorcycles, then peeled out of the lot.

The ride to the motel was brief--it was only a couple of miles. _I really could have walked,_ V. thought. It felt strange to put her arms around this man. Not as bad as she'd have expected. For a moment, she even relaxed into him. It was nice to let someone else drive.

_She's a tense one_, Jax thought, noticing her relaxation move out of her as quickly as it had moved in. He'd had a lot of women on the back of his bike, and he never remembered feeling one this stiff against his back. Tension or not, though, she felt good. Her grip was strong. Though she was trying to stay as far away from him as she could, he could feel her tits against his back, the muscles of her thighs against his. He never got tired of that.

She was off the motorcycle before he'd even fully stopped in the motel parking lot. The place wasn't much, but she looked relieved to see it.

"Thanks." She didn't look straight at him.

"No problem darlin'. Come back by the shop tomorrow and we'll talk about your ride, OK?"

"Yeah." She turned around and headed towards the motel office. He watched her ass move under her old jeans, appreciative, until she was inside.

Ten minutes later, V. was looking at herself in the mirror of her motel room bathroom. _Christ, what a mess._ The makeup she'd applied days ago was gone; the shadows of a healing black eye and bruised cheek were clear on her face. She was covered in road dust. Her face and arms and chest were sunburned. Stripping out of her clothes and stepping into the hot shower, she tried to avoid looking down, but couldn't help it. It was still there, of course, a jagged, half-healed incision, from sternum to belt line. At least it didn't look infected.

V. showered for a long time, letting the water pour over her and lathering her hair three times with cheap motel shampoo. Maybe it was good that she'd had to stop. She hadn't realized just how tired she was. Getting out of the shower, she didn't dress or even dry off. The minute her head hit the lumpy pillow, she was asleep.

***

As deeply asleep as she was, V. woke immediately to the pounding on the door. It felt like it had been only five minutes, but the neon numbers on the alarm clock told her differently. Almost five hours. Not sure where she'd thrown her bag, V. pulled the sheet around her and went to the door. Looking out the peephole, she saw Jax leaning against the door frame. Sighing, she pulled the door open.

"Hey, I..." he trailed off, taking her in. She was shorter without her motorcycle boots, but still quite tall. Curvy, even under the sheet. And bruised. One side of her face, around her neck. It hadn't been so obvious under her layer of grime and in the bright sun. He could see her eyes, now, too. He could see she was scared. Swallowing, trying to ignore the curve of her cleavage where it peeked out of the sheet, he continued. "I need to talk to you about your motorcycle."

"I thought you said to come by the shop tomorrow."

"Yeah. This can't wait."

She looked at him levelly, trying to keep her cool. "OK. Just a minute. Let me get some clothes on."

"Don't bother on my account, darlin'." He raised an eyebrow.

She didn't respond, just closed the door in his face. A moment later, she reopened it, dressed now in clean jeans and a tank top, and jerked her head, indicating that he could come in.

Jax entered the room trying to concentrate on what he'd come here to say and not on her. There was something compelling about her. Something almost scary. Which was ridiculous, really. He sat down on the unmade bed. She stayed standing, leaning against the motel desk and fixing him with her gaze.

"So," he began, "next time you jack a bike, you should try to get one that runs."

V. drew her breathe in sharply. Fuck. It hadn't even occurred to her that they'd run the plates. She didn't respond, just looked at him. Her mind raced. She had to get out of here. Now. But it wasn't like she could outrun him, and attempting to steal his motorcycle was too stupid even for her.

"I can see what you're thinking. Don't. Look I...we...don't care that you stole a bike in Texas." He saw the fear flash in her eyes again. "But the one you stole is wrecked. More wrong with it than right, and not worth fixing." He watched her face. She looked like she was figuring out what she could hit him with before she bolted. "And you can't steal another one here. That we _will_ care about."

V.'s mind continued to spin. There was some money left, but not enough to buy another bike, or a car, or even a plane ticket. And she didn't really know where she was going anyway. She hadn't thought much about any of it--she'd just run. Jax got off the bed and moved towards her. She tensed, her eyes darting around, looking for an escape.

"How long you been riding?"

The question surprised her. It wasn't what she'd expected. He was standing in front of her now, only a few feet away. The room seemed too small for both of them. She could feel him breathing.

"A few days. Week, maybe." She honestly wasn't sure even what day it was.

"Where you headed?"

"You ask a lot of questions."

He smiled. It looked so kind. _Don't be stupid,_ she thought.

"OK. No more questions." He moved a bit closer. Something was drawing him to her. She looked so small, so scared, leaning against that motel desk, her hair messy from sleeping, her face tenderized by the bruises. Her eyes never stopped moving, landing on everything in the room but him. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but thought better of it.

"Look--why not stay in Charming a day or two? Take a rest, figure out your next move."

She didn't like the idea, but didn't have a better one. Unless she was about to be arrested for stealing the bike.

"Who knows about the bike?"

"Just us."

"Us?"

"The Sons."

She nodded. "Law?"

He smiled. "We're the law in Charming. Don't worry about it."

His phone rang then, and he continued watching her as he flipped it open. He spoke only a few words, then closed it and began to move towards the door. Her voice stopped him.

"You won't tell anyone?"

"No." He turned and looked at her again. It was still hot, but she had her arms wrapped around herself. Again, he felt compelled to move towards her, but stopped himself.

"Listen, we might be able to help you." The words were out before he knew what he was saying. "I don't know what you're running from, and I don't need to know. But you're running."

"Perceptive." She pursed her lips and stared back at him, trying to keep composed.

"You don't want our help, that's fine." He turned towards the door again. "If you do, though, you know where to find me."

As the door clicked behind Jax, V. sunk to the bed, her head in her hands. She wanted nothing more than to follow him, to sink into his strong arms and tell him the whole story. To let him help her, protect her. But she knew better. She didn't even know him. She was on her own.

***

When Jax walked into the clubhouse, the bar area was already littered with Sons and hangers-on. Clay, the club's president, and Gemma, Clay's wife and Jax's mother, stood at the bar, beers in hand. Jax motioned for one.

"How'd it go with the Bike Jacking Bitch?" Gemma asked.

"Fine."

"What's the story?"

"Don't know--she won't say. But she's runnin' from something."

Gemma peered at her son. "Shit," she sighed. "You got that look."

"What look, Mom?"

"Hot thing with stolen bike and a nice rack comes in with a hard luck story and you're all moon-eyed. That's trouble you don't need, Jax."

Jax smiled at his mother, remembering how V. looked wrapped in her sheet. He raised his eyebrows. "That's exactly the kinda trouble I need."

"Well it ain't trouble we need," Clay broke in. "There's enough shit going down around here without some slit who steals bikes."

"She's not going to steal from us." Jax answered. "She's scared, but she's not stupid."

Clay nodded. Gemma shook her head. "She stayin' around?" she asked.

"Don't know. Doubt it."

Gemma watched her son as he strode towards the pool table. He'd grown into such a good man. Tall and strong, loyal. She worried, still, though, about the softness in his heart. And, where women were concerned, the softness in his head.

"What are you thinking, baby?" Clay asked her.

"I don't know. There's something about this girl, though. Jax is seein' something."

"Probably just needs a lay. Haven't seen Lady Doctor in a while. Bobby said she was a good lookin' girl."

"Yeah. Maybe." Gemma furrowed her brow.

"Don't worry about it, baby." Clay put his arms around her. "I got something to take your mind off it."

Gemma smiled and followed her husband into the back of the clubhouse.

At the pool table, Jax missed an easy shot. "Fuck."

"Mind's not in it, brother," Chibs chided.

"Guess not." Jax tried to concentrate on the balls as Chibs sunk his shot. When Chibs sunk the 8-ball he'd missed before, Jax threw the cue down in disgust.

"You want to go find her?" Chibs asked. The clubhouse was pretty quiet. There was nothing underway.

"Nah. She's probably on her way out of town already."

"Then let's go find something else to do. Dead here."

"Alright."

***

There wasn't a lot going on in Charming on a Tuesday night. Unable to go back to sleep after her visit from Jax, V. had been walking for what felt like hours. A couple of restaurants, a barber shop, a hospital, a couple of churches, a couple of bars. Satisfied she'd seen all there was to see, she swung open the door of the worse looking of the two bars. If she was going to get drunk, she might as well go with the cheaper option.

V. had only been on her stool 20 minutes when she heard the Sons come in. She was nursing her second beer, following up her second shot. She didn't turn around. She didn't mean to, but she strained to hear Jax's voice. Before she even heard him, though, he was behind her.

"Decide to stay around?" His voice was dangerously close to her ear. She closed her eyes, briefly, willing herself to get her ass off the stool and get the hell out of the bar. But she knew she wouldn't before she even opened her eyes. She swung around on the stool and came face to face with Jax. The Irishman, Chibs, was on one side of him. To the other side, a tall man with a beard.

"V., this is Opie. You've met Chibs."

"Hey." She shook the bearded man's hand.

Jax took the stool beside her and motioned to the bartender for a beer. Chibs and Opie sat nearby. When the bartender brought the beer, he brought another shot for V. as well, which she took quickly, without flinching. Jax smiled and held up two fingers, indicating the bartender should bring him one and her another.

"We gettin' drunk?" he asked her.

She looked at him. This was probably stupid. She should leave now. But she was so tired, had hurt so bad for so long. Maybe this would be fun.

"Yeah."

He smiled. "Good. I can do that."

Ninety minutes later, the bar was lined with empties, and for the first time in what felt like forever, V. was smiling. She didn't talk much, mostly listening to the three men telling stories, laughing, teasing each other. With each drink, V. felt herself relax a bit more. Jax watched her closely, seeing her shoulders relax, her face open up. Her eyes still looked guarded, but she was meeting his gaze more. When Chibs and Opie got up to play pool, Jax stayed on his stool, turning his full attention to her. She really was pretty--perfect skin under those bruises, long, dark hair, and those scared, sad green eyes. Her body was hot, too. He reached out, gently, and brushed a stray hair off her bruised cheek. She flinched; he quickly drew his hand away.

"What happened?"

V. sighed. "Long story. Joke with no punchline."

He nodded and ordered another round.

"You gonna stay around?"

"I don't know. For a while, I guess." V. sighed. "Not like I can walk out of here."

Jax smiled. "Why'd you steal the bike?"

"Same long story. Leave it alone."

Jax nodded. She really wasn't going to talk. For a few minutes, the two drank in silence. V. could feel Jax watching her, but he didn't say anything else.

"Listen," V. began, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. It's just...I can't really talk about any of it, OK?"

"OK." Jax smiled again. Disarming, that smile. Opie and Chibs came back over and said that they were leaving. Both of them were smiling and jeering in Jax's direction as they left. V. rolled her eyes. Clear where this was going. And it was so not going there.

"I'm not going to sleep with you." _Much as I'd like to._

Jax laughed, raised his eyebrow, and didn't answer. _Sure you are. Maybe not tonight, but you will._

"It's late. I should get back and get some sleep." Drunk now, V. felt sleepy. She also knew herself well enough to know that she'd be better off not to spend any more time with this charming man. The more she drank, the more charming he got.

"Alright. Let me give you a ride."

V. didn't argue, just got on the bike. This time, she didn't try to hold herself tensely away from Jax, but wrapped her arms around in a way that, while it wasn't exactly flirtatious, was at least friendly. Jax noticed, again, the feeling of her muscled thighs and arms, the length of her legs. He wished she hadn't already said she wouldn't sleep with him. But he wasn't beyond giving it a try anyway.

Arriving at the motel, he turned as she dismounted the bike, holding her wrists. She seemed surprised, but didn't pull away. The evening, or the alcohol, had relaxed her.

"Stay."

"In the parking lot?"

"In Charming."

She smiled. It really was lovely when she smiled. "Maybe."

"You don't have anywhere else to be, do you?" The way he said it wasn't unkind.

"No."

"Then this place is as good as any."

"Maybe," she said again. "I'd have to find a job."

"What do you do?"

"Anything that doesn't ask too many questions. Or require a pole."

He laughed. She hadn't seemed like a stripper, though she certainly had the body for it. She started to pull away again. He didn't let go. Instead, he stood, straddling the bike. He kissed her quickly, his hands still wrapped around her wrists.

She didn't pull away. She just looked at him, her eyes clear, meeting his.

"Goodnight, Jax."


	2. Chapter 2

By the next morning, V. had all but decided to stay. She was far enough away, now, and nobody would think to look for her in a nothing town like Charming. Besides, she was tired. Tired of riding, and not sleeping, and worrying. She was going to have to stop somewhere. May as well be here.

_That doesn't, however, mean you need to have anything to do with a fucking biker._ _You've been around along enough to know there's nothing good there._ She rolled her eyes at herself. It had already gone too far. She shouldn't have gotten drunk with them last night, and certainly shouldn't have let Jax kiss her.

It was nice, though. Been a long time since she'd been kissed.

Sighing, she turned the motel door knob. Clean clothes on, face made up to hide the faded bruises. If she was going to stay here, it was time to go find a job.

**

By late afternoon, V. had exhausted all employment opportunities in Charming. Nobody was hiring. Finally coming down from days of fear adrenaline, feeling the effects of last night's drunk, and sick to death of walking, she wanted nothing so much as to return to her motel room and crash. So of course that was when she'd hear a pack of Harleys coming up the street next to the sidewalk she was on. The man in the lead was older--in his 60s, probably--with a cruel face. _That'd be the president_, V. thought. Behind him, V. recognized Jax, and another mean-faced man, with cold, narrow eyes. Behind them, four more. Opie wasn't with them, but Chibs was. When they stopped at the light, Jax turned to see her on the sidewalk. He didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow, smiled. V. felt that rush of cool again. _Chills. He gives me fucking chills. Good Lord._ She didn't smile back, just kept walking. When the light changed, they sped away, out of town.

**

That night, eating a greasy dinner at one of the cafes in town, V. weighed her options. Her cash reserve was dwindling fast. She had to either find some way to earn legit money here in Charming, or find a way to get out. It had already been made pretty clear that stealing wasn't going to be an option--that last thing V. needed was to piss off an outlaw motorcycle club. She had trouble enough already.

A woman sat down at the counter. She was pretty, dressed in jeans and high heeled boots and an open flannel shirt over a tank top. With her two-toned hair and tattooed arms, though, she looked tough. V. eyed her curiously, trying to be subtle.

"What are you lookin' at?" The woman glared at V.

V. bristled. "Nothing." Then, under her breath, "bitch."

The woman's hand came down over V.'s nearly instantly. "Honey, I'd rethink that, if I were you." She smiled in a way that was anything but kind. "Around here, I'm the Queen Bitch."

V. looked at the woman again. This wasn't a very big town--with those tats and that attitude, she had to be club-associated. Best to let it go. "I'm sorry," V. said. "Rough day, no need to be a bitch to you about it."

The woman paused, then smiled. "Accepted. Gemma." She stuck out her hand.

"V." She returned the handshake.

"So tell me, V.," Gemma said, "why such a rough day?"

Talking to Gemma wasn't hard. V. didn't tell her anything incriminating--nothing about the bike, or about running--but said she was new in town and needed to find work, and wasn't coming up with anything. When she mentioned that her motorcycle had crapped out and stranded her in Charming, Gemma's expression changed.

"You're the bike thief. You were at the garage yesterday."

V. thought about lying, but decided better of it. Clearly Gemma had already been briefed on her.

"Yeah. But I'm not going to steal anything here. Don't worry."

Gemma laughed. It was a hard sound. "Sweetheart, I wasn't worried." She looked V. up and down, then shook her head. "No wonder."

"No wonder?"

"No wonder my kid came in looking hungry." Gemma sneered. "You're just his type."

"I'm not a club bird, if that's what you mean." V.'s temper was hot. So this woman was Jax's mother? Perfect. But her bead on V. was wrong. Once, maybe, she'd have been the type of girl to hang around a MC, waiting on bikers, getting picked up, keeping the party going. Not for years, though. And, in jeans and a button-down shirt, her hair up, she didn't look the part, either.

Gemma lit a cigarette. "Calm down. That's not what I meant." She exhaled. "Jax...he's after something else. Been surrounded by sweetcheeks since he hit puberty. Now he looks for girls like you. Girls who have no fucking business in this life." Gemma looked at V. hard.

V. met the older woman's gaze, held it. _You don't know me, lady,_ she thought. _I know more about your life than you think. _

Gemma didn't speak for a moment. _This one came in by herself, on a stolen ride_, she thought. _There may be something different here._

"Can you do office stuff? Accounts, payments, that kind of stuff?"

V. was surprised at the question. "If you mean can I add and subtract and answer the fucking phone, yeah."

Gemma nodded. "Can you keep your mouth shut?"

V. stared back at her. Gemma answered her own question. "I've been talking to you an hour and you've told me exactly nothing, so I'd guess that's a yes." She exhaled. "Come to the garage tomorrow. May be that we can use you."

Gemma herself wasn't sure what had possessed her to offer V. a job. It was true that they desperately needed someone in the Teller-Morrow office--Gemma wanted to spend less time there and more with Abel, and Clay was hopeless at it. But there were a dozen people she could have hired--there was no reason to take a chance on someone new, who she knew was a thief, and who she suspected was taking up too much room in her son's head already. There was something about her, though, that Gemma recognized and connected to. The temper, the sarcasm, the anger, but also the strength. She seemed like someone who was hurt, badly, but who was also capable of defending herself. Like someone who might understand the life Gemma's family was leading. What Gemma wouldn't admit, even to herself, was that she was lonely for female company. She'd never liked the women who hung around SAMCRO--mostly they were stupid whores, or junkies, or both. She had a few female friends, like LuAnn, but mostly, she was surrounded by men. For decades, that had been just the way she liked it, but lately she'd been wishing she had more girlfriends.

V. was momentarily stunned. _Talk to the Dragon Lady an hour and she's offering me a job?_ _What's the angle?_ Her next thought was of Jax, who clearly worked at the garage, at least some of the time. _No fucking way. Not a good idea._

"That's nice, but no thanks.

Gemma sneered again. "Look, honey--if you want a job in Charming, you better take the one that's offered to you. There's nothing else here. Besides, I have only to say the word, and nobody else will hire you even if they do need help."

V. was stunned again. Not only was she being offered a job, she was being pressured to take it. This definitely wasn't a Good Samaritan act. Gemma wanted her at the garage for her own reasons. That or she was just looking for reaction. Maybe she wanted to see if V. was scared of the Club?

"The garage, it's Club." It wasn't really a question.

Gemma nodded. "That a problem?"

"Not for me. But I don't fuck bikers." V. tried to push the lingering feeling of Jax's lips on hers out of her mind. "So could be a problem for them."

Gemma smirked. "Not gonna hire you to fuck them. Gonna hire you to sit at the desk so I can spend some more time with my grandson. Besides, they got all the pussy they need rubbin' on 'em all the time. Nobody's even gonna take notice of you."

The words had their intended effect. First, V. felt a small stab at the word "grandson." Did Gemma have another child, or was Jax a father? Then she saw red at the implication that she'd be less desirable than the jail bait that usually hung around MCs. Her mouth contorted into a line. "Fine. What time should I be there?"

**

As it turned out, the SAMCRO members V. saw leaving Charming were on their way on an out of town run. At the garage, it was just V. and Gemma and a couple of non-Club mechanics. V. was thankful for the quiet, and the opportunity to learn her new job without the distraction of the club. Gemma was, by turns, nasty and nice. She'd insult V. one minute, light a joint and pass it to her the next. By the third day, the two women had achieved a kind of symbiosis--they still circled each other warily, neither with her guard down, but the attacks weren't constant. V. was more than competent to manage the office, and Gemma was glad not to have to worry about it. V. learned, more by listening to Gemma on the phone that having been told, that the grandson-Abel-was indeed Jax's son, but that his mother was not Jax's old lady, but a junkie long gone from the scene. For her part, Gemma noticed that V. moved with with the look of someone who had been hurt, seriously, fairy recently. She also noticed the momentary panic in V.'s eyes whenever an unfamiliar car entered the lot. She was calming some, but something still had that girl very jumpy.

When Gemma entered the office on the fourth day, V. was bending over the file cabinet, looking for an invoice. She heard Gemma laugh behind her.

"Your pants are falling off."

V. looked down. It was true. She hadn't eaten properly for a long time, and between the time on the bike and the time in Charming, walking everywhere, she was dropping weight. Her jeans hung on her hips. She'd come to town with only a knapsack, so they were one of two pairs. V. had been hoping Gemma wouldn't notice her wardrobe, but wasn't surprised she had. Gemma herself was impeccably dressed, as always.

"Yeah."

"Here." Gemma pulled a small handful of bills out of the cash bag she was carrying and thrust them at V. "An advance. Get yourself something to wear. You look like shit."

V. took the money. "Thanks." She was a bit embarrassed--she knew she looked bad--but also surprised. Why did Gemma care how she dressed?

"Do it now." Gemma continued. "Get out of here for today. Clay will be back this afternoon, and I don't need him seeing you here before I have a chance to tell him I hired you."

V. smiled. _So Queen Gemma isn't quite as in charge as she pretends to be?_ she thought.

Gemma interpreted the smile for what it was. "Don't get cute. Just go, before I change my mind."

V. didn't argue, just grabbed her bag and left the office.

**

Things with Clay went better than Gemma had expected. He came back from the run in a good mood and thought hiring someone for the office was a great idea and Gemma's choice was fine. Gemma didn't mention the clothing advance. No use telling Clay things he didn't need to know.

The next morning, V. got to the office before Gemma again. She had been up for hours, after tossing and turning most of the night. She had no idea what her new job was going to be like now that the club members were back. She knew she cared too much, though, after catching herself looking in the mirror for the hundredth time that morning. She did look better--jeans that fit, her bruises healed--but why should it matter? _You're not trying to get picked up here,_ she reminded herself. _This is just a job. Get some cash together, move on._

"Hey, Gemma," the hard-eyed man V. had seen with the other Sons riding out of town was coming into the office. "Where's..." He trailed off, realizing she wasn't Gemma and assessing her. "Hey, mama. What are you doing here?"

"Gemma hired me to help in the office." V. replied. She didn't like the feeling the man gave her. His eyes had none of the humanity she'd seen in Jax's, or even in Chibs' and Opie's. There didn't seem to be anything behind them. And he was moving closer to her.

"Nice of her." He was too close to her now. She tensed, looking around for something to put between herself and the man. Unfortunately, her back was already to the file cabinet. There wasn't anywhere to go.

The man put a hand against the metal cabinet, trapping her between his arm and the wall. He appraised her again, his eyes fixing on her chest. He sneered. "Nice piece to waste in an office."

V. blanched. Inside, she was shaking, screaming. She tried to remain calm, figure out how to get out of this. "Well, I gotta...file..." she began, lamely, trying to duck under his arm. He caught her wrist in his hand.

It was all V. could do to keep from screaming. She froze, spiraling into her own head. There was a knife in her boot. Could she get to it? She stared at the man, and his cold eyes looked back into hers.

The office door opened again. This time, it was Jax. He wasn't wearing his cut, but a mechanic's overshirt, stained with grease. He moved smoothly across the small room, removing the dead-eyed man's hand from V.'s wrist in one motion. Then he smiled. "V., I see you've met Tig."

The dead-eyed man--Tig--backed away. "You know this bitch?"

"Yeah," Jax replied. "We've met." He nodded towards the office door. "Clay wants to talk to you."

Tig didn't reply, just left the room, the door banging after him.

Jax looked at V. When he'd come into the room, she'd looked both terrified and furious. Now she just looked sad.

"You OK?"

"Me? Yeah, of course. Why?" She tried to brush the encounter off. She certainly didn't need a protector. Her legs felt shaky, though. She sunk into the desk chair.

Jax studied her. He hadn't thought much about her on the run--plenty of other things, and a particularly hot other woman, to take his mind off her. Now that he was faced with her again, though, he felt that same pull he'd felt before. She seemed both so tough and so fragile, so mad and so scared. There was a wildness in her that he'd not seen anywhere but the mirror for a long time.

"You're gonna get a lot of that, here." Jax finally said. "Good lookin' girl, don't belong to anybody. They'll all try to get a piece."

V. snorted. "Your ma said nobody'd even notice me here. You all got no shortage of girls around."

Jax laughed. "Don't mind Mom. She'll mess with your head if you let her. Testing you, is all." He ignored the rest of her statement. Jax had been a MC Lothario for long enough to know not to give a woman he was trying to bed any ammunition when it came to other women. "They won't hurt you, though," he continued. "You say no, everybody here is gonna hear that. Even Tig."

V. met Jax's even gaze. He looked serious. She nodded. "Thanks."

Keeping V.'s eyes locked with his, Jax leaned over the desk until his face was just inches from her's. "Of course," he said softly. "Now..." He moved further towards her, clearly intending to pick up the kiss they'd left off with in the motel parking lot.

V. swallowed. She wanted, again, to melt into that kiss. But she knew, better than she'd like, where that would go. And it couldn't do there. Suddenly, clumsily, she backed the chair away.

Jax straightened. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been rejected by a woman. The vibe he got off V. was unmistakable--she wanted him. So why was she backing away? His puzzlement was overcome quickly by his anger. _Who is this bitch?_

"I got work to do." He huffed, slamming the office door behind him.

After Jax left the office, V. sat at the desk a long time, not moving. Working at Teller-Morrow was going to be just as much of a cluster fuck as she'd thought--the first few days had lulled her into a sense of false security. She had mostly pushed Jax out of her mind while he was gone, but now that he was back, after seeing him for only a few minutes, he filled her consciousness. It wasn't good. _Oh well_, she finally thought. _Rejecting his kiss just now was probably enough to do it, anyway. Like Gemma said, Jax had women on him all the time. There was no reason to believe he had a particular fascination with her. He probably wouldn't try again._ Then there was the other problem, with Tig, and with whomever else she hadn't yet met. A woman in this place, unattached, she was always going to have to stay on her toes.

V. sighed. Why couldn't shit ever be easy?

**

V. sat straight up in bed and screamed. Luckily, her scream was loud enough to wake herself up. It had been the same dream as always. The leering face above her, the knife. She wrapped her arms around herself. It was still hot, and the AC in her room didn't work, but V. was freezing. She could hear the music that wasn't playing. She could smell tar and feel her back against the pavement. It was so real.

_Christ,_ she thought. _Maybe I should take one of the motorcycle boys to bed. At least then I wouldn't have to wake up to this, alone._ In the dark of the motel room, V. couldn't see the scar, but her finger traced it. It didn't really hurt much now, though it wasn't fully healed. Now, though, it seemed to radiate heat into her freezing body. She sighed, looking at the neon clock numbers. 3:34. _No way I'm going back to sleep,_ V. thought. She got up, pulled on her jeans, pulled a shirt over her head. It wasn't until the motel door clicked shut behind her that she realized that she had absolutely nowhere to go.


	3. Chapter 3

It was Friday night and the party was raging at the clubhouse. Church had been long, so they'd gotten started late. Jax sat on the ragged couch, a beer in one hand, a blonde in his lap. The girl gyrated against him. He felt himself harden, automatically, but there was no real excitement. He felt restless, nearly unhinged. With unusual curtness, he dismissed the blonde, all but pushing her off him. She pouted, but he didn't even notice. He was nearly out the door when Chibs stopped him.

"What's up brother?"

"Dunno. Just not in the mood for this, I guess."

"Not in the mood for that?" Chibs gestured towards the dumped blonde.

"Nah. Walls are feeling close."

Chibs nodded, following Jax out of the clubhouse. "Let's ride."

The two men had been riding for nearly an hour when they pulled up next to V. She was walking, aimlessly, at the edge of Charming. With the nightmares coming almost every night, she spent most nights walking, waiting to be so tired she had to sleep, in the hopes the dreams would stay way. Sometimes they did.

Chibs glanced at Jax, then at V. Jax hadn't mentioned her or even looked at her since she'd rejected his attempt to kiss her in the Teller-Morrow office. Even as the other men in the garage had entered a pattern of good-humored flirtation with her, and an ongoing discussion among themselves about her various attributes, Jax had been conspicuously silent. He stared at V.'s back. Chibs smiled slightly, then veered into a right turn. "See you later, Jacky boy."

Catching up to V., Jax killed the bike's engine. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Where you goin'?"

"Nowhere. Just walking."

"Ridin' be better?" Jax patted the seat behind him. V. closed her eyes for a moment. She knew better. She really, really knew better. But she remembered the feeling of him, strong in front of her, the first night she was in town. She was so tired then, and was nearly as tired now. She needed--desperately--something to hold on to.

"Alright." She climbed behind him on the seat. Jax unfastened his helmet, handed it back to her. _Ah, the chivalry of the outlaw,_ she thought. Knowing it wouldn't do any good to argue, she put it on. As soon as he felt her arms around his waist, he started the engine and pulled away from the curb. He didn't go slow.

They rode for what could have been hours, never slowing. They may have been going over the same roads twice or three times, V. couldn't tell. After awhile, she wasn't even looking. She pushed her thoughts away, concentrating only on the feeling of the road underneath her, and of the man in front of her. Instinct took over, and she didn't even notice as she tightened her grip around Jax's waist, then laid her face against his shoulder.

Jax noticed. He smiled as he felt her arms tighten around him, then pushed the motorcycle a bit faster. He knew she wasn't holding on so tightly out of fear, but the speed never hurt. Feeling her head drop against his shoulder, his smile widened. She didn't feel nearly so tense as she had the last time she sat behind him on that seat.

Finally, somewhere outside Charming, Jax pulled off. The road was dead, the night silent. Before V. could move her arms, Jax put his hands over hers. "You OK?" His voice was so low she could barely hear it, even in the quiet.

"Yeah." He felt her breathing against the back of his neck. He closed his eyes for a moment, just feeling her there. Then he turned his head towards her's. His face just inches from her's in the dark, he couldn't so much see her as read her breathe. He lifted a hand off the handlebars, touching the side of her face with his glove. She flinched, but only for a moment. If it hadn't been so dark, so quiet, he may not even have noticed.

He started to speak, to tell her that whatever she was afraid of, it didn't need to be him. Before the words could come out, though, he felt her lips on his. It wasn't the chaste kiss he'd laid on her in the parking lot. She kissed him hard, hungrily. He responded in kind, biting her lip between his. He pulled her with him off the bike. _Obviously he's made that move before_, she thought. Standing just in front of her, he pulled the helmet off her, throwing his gloves to the ground after it. As soon as his hands were free, he tangled them in her hair, forcing her head closer to his.

_She's got great hair_, he thought. His pushed his body against hers, insistent. Pulling away from the kiss to breathe, he inhaled her scent. She smelled sweet and fresh, like oranges, and also like home--she'd been at the garage long enough already to pick up some of that smell. She snaked her arms under his cut, then his t-shirt, her palms flat against his chest. Breathing heavily now, he pulled one hand from her hair and trailed it down her body. Her neck, the curve of her breast, then her stomach. Suddenly, instantly, she pulled back, wrenching her head from his hand so he ended up with a handful of her hair.

"No."

"Shh." He moved towards her again. What had spooked her? He reached for her waist. She jerked back again, knocking into the bike.

"Babe, it's alright." He reached for her again, this time touching the side of her face.

"Take me back, please." V. spoke tightly, controlled. Jax moved his hand off her face, backing up.

Jax shook his head. "What the fuck? I don't get you. One minute, you're all over me; the next, you're the ice princess." He moved towards her again. His voice was rough--he sounded pissed. "You just a cock tease?"

V. sighed. "No. I'm sorry. I know that's how it seems." Still close, he felt her tremble. "This is just a really, really bad idea."

Jax smirked. He'd heard that before. His life had been spotted with girls telling him he was a bad idea, but unable to keep their hands off him, or resist him putting his hands on them. _This was a fucking game._ OK, he could play that game.

He moved close to her again, his lips nearly touching hers. "Why," he breathed into her mouth, "would this be a really, really bad idea?" His tone was mocking. He felt her heat, knew she wanted him. He kissed her again, as forcefully as she'd kissed him, and then harder still. His body pushed against her, flattening her between him and the motorcycle. He felt her heart pound in her chest. _Was this what she wanted?_ he wondered, grinding against her. He might have misjudged her completely when he thought she was something new; she could be just another motorcycle bunny who wanted to feel like she was being forced by the bad boy. Well, he could do that.

V.'s mind raced. She knew he was getting the wrong signals off her, and that pissed off he might be dangerous, especially all the way out here. She kicked herself for not paying more attention--even if she did run, she wouldn't even know which direction the town was in. Then there was the desire, running through her hot and sharp, overwhelming most everything else. Everything but the fear.

"Jax," she pulled herself out of the kiss. "Please. Don't." She spoke quickly, afraid he'd silence her. "I'm not trying to tease. But this can't happen."

He paused. That didn't sound like the game he was expecting. _Maybe she really is scared,_ he thought, remembering the bruises on her face when she'd first come into town. _Somebody hurt her, and she's thinking I'm going to do the same._

"I'm not going to hurt you, darlin'," he said. His voice remained gravelly, his face still close to hers. "And if you want me to take you back to town now, I will. But answer me a question first: if you don't want this," he gestured in the small space between their bodies, "why'd you come out here with me? Why'd you kiss me?"

V. exhaled. Where to go with this now? She could taste him on her lips, feel his body under her hands. She wanted nothing so much as to pull him with her right down into the dirt on the side of the road. But there would be consequences if she did, the most immediate of which would be the questions her split belly would certainly spawn. It was dark, but the mostly healed incision was obvious to the touch. He'd want to know.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have kissed you. I shouldn't have come out here. I wasn't fucking thinking."

"So keep not thinking." She could feel him smile. His finger traced the side of her face again, stopping on her lips, outlining them. "I can help you with that." His finger continued its path, running down the exposed skin of her throat, her collarbone, stopping between her breasts. She was enthralled. With the motorcycle against her back, he seemed huge in front of her, all around her. His smell--cigarettes and grease and the gum he was constantly chewing--filled her nostrils. She inhaled, closing her eyes. It would be so easy just to let go, let him take her. Gathering all that was left of her reserve, she put her hand over his, stopping his exploration.

"You're right. I want you. But it's not happening. Not now."

He stopped. "You got a man?"

V. shook her head. "That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"It's that same long story, Jax. Please. Take me back."

Jax climbed back on the motorcycle. "OK." V. leaned over, picking up the helmet and gloves from the ground. She handed Jax the gloves, fastened the helmet, then threw her leg over the bike. Sighing, he reached back, pulling her arms around him. She exhaled, then nestled her head against his shoulder as he took off.

**

V. had established a rhythm at Teller-Morrow, that while it wasn't exactly comfortable, was bearable. Clay and Gemma both realized quickly that they were better off leaving the bookkeeping to her, and she excelled at it. Though it was never exactly going to be tidy, the office was far more manageable than it had ever been before. Both the SOA members and the mechanics seemed to like her, particularly as she got more willing to stand up for herself against their barbs. Jax, for his part, paid little attention to her. Neither of them mentioned the night of their ride. Lying in her motel bed, though, she couldn't help but think about him. She closed her eyes and felt his hands running over her throat, his lips pressed against hers. And, occasionally, she watched him from the office window, parking his bike, talking to the other guys. He'd caught her at it once or twice, when she hadn't looked away quickly enough. He knew she was still thinking about him.

It was late afternoon on a Thursday when V. heard a sound in the parking lot she'd hoped not to hear again. She wouldn't have believed she'd recognize it, months later and far away, but she did. And her heart stopped.

"Goddamn you Victoria! Are you here?" The man was yelling as soon as he got out of his truck. "You fucking whore!" Before V. could even get to the office door, men in leather cuts were beginning to congregate in the lot. Jax, Juice, Tig. There was a crowbar in Jax's hand. Tig's hand was near his gun.

"You lookin' for something?" Jax wasn't smiling. The man didn't seem scared.

"I am," he drawled. He was large, bigger than any of the Sons in the lot. "Cunt named Victoria. Heard she might be hiding out here."

"Nobody by that name here." Tig stood next to Jax. Chibs and Bobby came out of the garage, both holding bats.

"Bullshit," said the man with the drawl. "I know she's here. I can smell that bitch." Gemma and Clay, who had been in the clubhouse, appeared in the parking lot.

V. took a deep breath, then walked out of the office. "He's lookin' for me." She walked towards the man. "Hugh. Leo sent you?"

"Bitch, you are in a world of hurt," Hugh said. He reached towards V., but both Jax and Tig stepped between them.

"Get out of my way. This is between us and the bitch. We got no beef with Sam Crow."

Clay approached. "The girl is an employee of my garage. Any beef you got with her, we'd all like to hear about."

"Stupid gash stole from us and then thought she'd run out." Hugh replied. "We warned her, but she just couldn't stay in her place." He moved towards V. again. "Don't know why you'd want her hanging around here anyway. That bitch is damaged goods." He eyed V., then spoke in a lower, sneering voice. "Did you really think anybody else would ever want you? Nothing inside is any good anymore. You're a used up whore."

That was all it took. Jax got to Hugh first, with Tig right beside him. He grabbed the larger man around the throat, shoving him on to the ground. His voice was seething. "Go back, asshole, and tell whoever sent you that unless they want Sam Crow as an enemy, we had better not see you again." With one sneakered foot, he kicked Hugh hard in the stomach. "And you never, ever talk to a woman like that." With that, another kick, this time to the teeth. Tig hauled Hugh up and threw him back at his car. Clay followed, putting his face close to Hugh's. "Who sent you?"

"Ask the bitch," Hugh sputtered through the blood in his mouth. Tig slammed the car door on him, and he backed quickly out of the lot.

V. stood there, silent, her arms wrapped around herself. After watching Hugh's truck leave the lot, the Sons all turned to look at her. She knew they would require an explanation, but her mind was blank. She couldn't think of any way to explain this. Her momentary relief at not being left alone with Hugh was overcome with the fear of having brought trouble to the SOA, with whom she had no real position. She opened her mouth, tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come. Jax approached her, his eyes kind. "It's gonna be OK," he said. For the first time since the night of their ride, he touched her, putting his arms around her and pulling her to him. "Come on. Come inside and tell us what's going on."

V. inhaled, briefly, her face in his chest. The tears wanted to well up in her eyes, but she determinedly pushed them back. Jax let loose of her, only to take her hand. Holding it tightly, he led her inside.


	4. Chapter 4

In the clubhouse, Jax sat the still-shaking V. down on a bar stool. His eyes never leaving her, he poured her a shot, which she took and quickly drank. He smiled. "Good." He sat down next to her, pulled a joint from his cut pocket, lit it, and passed it to her. Her fingers trembled as she took it, then she took a long drag.

The rest of the club, and Gemma, were filing into the room. Clay leaned up against the bar and looked at V. hard.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm sorry I brought this shit to your door. I didn't think they'd find me here."

Clay nodded. "You're gonna have to start answering some questions, girl."

V. hit the joint again, then passed it back to Jax, who held his hand on hers for just a moment. "What do you want to know?"

"You can start with who the fuck the cracker was."

"Name's Hugh. He's...a muscle man, I guess. Works for a drug boss, King Leo. Out of South Texas."

"Mexican?"

"No. This isn't little border jumping shit. It's an outpost for a big operation. Russian, mostly. Moving coke and H. out of South America."

Gemma came up behind V.'s bar stool, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Those bruises on your face when you hit town. He did that?" She took the joint Jax was still holding, drew on it, and handed it to V. again.

V. nodded. "Yeah." _Maybe I can just leave it with the bruises. Maybe I won't have to tell the rest._

"He your old man?" Clay asked.

V. snorted. "Good Lord no."

"Then why's he here after you?"

V. was silent for a moment, deciding what to say. Finally, she answered, "Leo sent him. They think I belong to them."

"Why'd they think that?"

V. looked around the room, knowing she'd have to make a decision. The men's faces were intent on her. She didn't feel like she was in danger, at least not immediately. She remembered Jax's words, the first night she was in Charming, "we might be able to help you." Maybe they could. And really, she wasn't seeing any other options. She took a deep breathe and handed the joint back to Jax.

"I had a brother. Good kid. Well, no...not a good kid, a stupid kid, but _my_ stupid kid, you know? He got in too deep. Couldn't take them on, couldn't let them kill him, so I had to pay the debt. Told them they could have me instead." She looked around the room again. Jax's brow was furrowed. She continued.

"I thought I knew what I had coming. Women were only good for whores and mules. Turned out they had something else in mind." She swallowed, hard. Gemma's hand reappeared on her shoulder, steady. "The old man wanted kids--he had some running around, of course, but they weren't what he had in mind. Wanted tall, strong white babies." She swallowed again, willing herself not to cry, knowing that if she started, she wouldn't stop. "Thought I'd make good breeding stock." She closed her eyes, willing the room to go away, but it didn't. "Took me a long time to get knocked up. Don't know how long--I was under guard, the days ran together." _Might as well add the rest of it._ "And I was taking anything anybody would give me, so I was too fucked up to figure out the time most days anyway." V. looked at the floor, knowing all eyes were on her. She continued, "I knew I was pregnant before they did. Knew I had to get out. Bad enough to have me locked up, but I wasn't bringing a kid into that shit. So I waited for my moment." The scene played in V.'s head, coming on to her guard for just long enough to grab his gun. "Shot the guard. Ran."

"So you got one cookin' now?" Clay asked. V. realized all the eyes in the room were on her belly.

"No. There's more."

"Jesus, give the girl a minute," Gemma said.

V. took another breath and went on with her story. "I was pretty strung out by the time I landed anywhere. Thought I'd lay low, get my shit together, figure out where to go next." She nodded slightly, remembering this time, her fear, but also her triumph at being out. "I didn't get out soon enough. That son of a bitch you just met found me. And took me to see King Leo. I don't know how they found out about the baby, but they did. Said I'd stolen what belonged to the boss."

V. had come the part she thought she'd never tell anybody, the part she didn't even allow to replay in her head--at least not when she was awake. She hadn't even noticed it, but she was shaking again. Jax's hand covered hers on the bar. He looked at her. "You're safe," he said.

Her voice smaller now, V. continued. "Never saw him get his hands dirty before, or even heard about it. Had people to do that for him. Guess I was special." Her face turned hard.  
"Said I took his kid, so he was going to take it back." She pulled her hand from under Jax's on the bar, stood up to make sure everyone could see. _Only going to do this once,_ she thought, _so get your peeps now._ Clenching her teeth, she pulled her shirt up over her stomach, revealing the angry red scar. It was almost completely healed now, but still raised, clear to see. After she was sure everyone had seen it, V. dropped her shirt and sat back down on the stool.

The room was silent. V. looked at Jax; his eyes blazed. She thought, inappropriately, probably, about the night on the side of the road, how badly she wanted to let him touch her, and how afraid she'd been of him seeing what he'd just seen.

"The baby?" Gemma's voice broke the silence.

"Wasn't viable. Wasn't even really a baby yet. They knew that. Wasn't about that." V. said. She saw it all again, in her head, just like she had in the dream. The knife, the leering face. _Bitch, I'm gonna gut you like a fish._

"Wound like that, you wouldn't live long," Tig said. "How'd you get out?"

"I don't know. The last thing I remember was being cut into. I never saw the baby, or whatever else they took out. I woke up in the hospital a week later." She sighed, then continued, hoping she could get the rest of it out and then just be done. "Was in the hospital three, four weeks. Had to open me back up twice, fix internal stuff. Day I was going to get out, I saw Hugh and another guy in the hall. Knew they were going to take me right back." She remembered, again, the feeling of hopelessness, of having nobody on her side. "Saw that damn shit heap motorcycle in the lot, knew I could take the dude on it. Stole the bike; just kept riding."

"Until you broke down here."

"Yeah, until I broke down here."

The room was silent again until V. spoke. "Look, thank you for what you did for me today. Gave me a head start. But I know I'm not your family, and Sam Crow does not need shit with this crew. Too many men, too many guns, too much money. With no baby, I didn't think they'd bother to look far for me, but it seems that they will, so I'll get out, tonight. Get this shit away from you." She started to stand. Jax's hand came down on hers again, pulling her back down to the stool.

"No," he said. "You're not running again."

Across the bar, Clay nodded. "We gotta sit down on this. But meantime, you're safe here." He jerked his head towards the clubhouse's back rooms. "Give Chibs and Juice your motel keys, they'll go get your shit."

Chibs approached V. on her stool. As she handed him her keys, he pressed his lips quickly to her forehead. "You'll be alright, princess. We got you."

The color was gone from V.'s face. Telling the story had been as hard as she'd imagined it would be, and having told it didn't make her feel any better, just more precarious. She knew they could turn, in a second, and decide not to offer her their protection. She wasn't sure, in fact, why they were doing it now. Jax looked at her, the dull sadness in her eyes, the exhaustion in her face.

"Come on," he took her hand. "You should lie down." He led her down the clubhouse hall, opening the door of the room he'd once slept in. Some of his stuff was still scattered around; the room still held his smell. He led her to the bed, sitting down next to her on it. He reached over and brushed the hair from her face.

"You alright?"

She nodded, slowly. "I think so."

He shook his head. "You are one tough girl." He paused. "I hate to, but can I ask you another question?"

V. nodded. He was going to ask, she assumed, about the night by the side of the road, and if the scar he'd just seen was the reason she'd backed away.

"What happened to your brother?"

V. closed her eyes. It hadn't been intentional, exactly, leaving that part out. Just trying to protect that little piece of her heart. She opened her eyes again, looking at Jax squarely. "They killed him anyway."

The silence between them seemed to last a lifetime. Finally, Jax whispered, "I'm sorry." V. nodded. He moved closer to her then, and wrapped his arms around her again. She wanted to pull away, afraid that if she let herself sink into him, the tears she'd been holding back would come. But she didn't. Instead, she let him hold her.

**

The discussion around the redwood table had been short. Nobody wanted to cut her loose. Though she'd been around only a few weeks, she'd grown on everybody. It was unusual, true, for Sam Crow to protect someone who wasn't one of their own, but there were always exceptions. Besides, one look at Jax's face told any doubters that the mere suggestion of throwing her out would mean a lot of trouble with him. Still, there were questions.

"Think she's tellin' the truth?" Bobby asked.

"Don't know," Tig said. "Shooting a guard, stealing a bike--that's a lot of action for a little girl. She's been a doe-eye since she's been here." Even as he spoke, though, he wasn't sure. He remembered cornering her that first day in the office, and how there was fear in her eyes, but something else, as well. Calculation. He wasn't at all sure the bitch hadn't been about to land one in on his nuts and pull a blade.

"Scar's real enough," Chibs broke in. "Somebody gutted her."

Opie blanched slightly. "We know she can ride," he said. "Bike she came in on was a heap, but she got here from Texas on it, alone."

"And she was carryin'," Juice added. "We found the gun in her room. No serial."

"I believe her," Jax finally said. He, too, was thinking of her competence, of the unusual strength he felt in her limbs when she was on the back of his motorcycle. "Don't know if she's tellin' all of it, but what she is tellin' is true." He lit a cigarette, inhaled, "question is, what do we do with that?"

The club was in a position with which they weren't familiar. Usually, when they were called upon to protect women, it was as business interests, or the women in question were part of the family. Nobody's old lady, V. wasn't family.

"She's a smart girl," Clay mused. "Doin' great keeping the garage shit in line. Could be useful." He nodded. "We keep her around, see if we get any more visits from these Russian bastards?"

The men around the table nodded.

"Think she can still take a dick?" Tig asked. "All her parts fucked up like that?" Chibs and Opie both looked at Jax, glances Clay didn't miss.

"Hey, V.P., you gettin' a piece of that?" Clay asked.

"No." Jax's mouth was hard and he shook his head. Much as didn't want to hear that shit from Tig, he was not about to share her rejection with the table.

Tig raised his eyebrows. "Guess there's one way to find if everything's still workin'," he said.

Jax shook his head. "Man, she's seen enough shit," he said. "Leave her alone." Tig stared at him, but didn't say anything.

"Alright," Clay said. "Anything else?"

**

V. sat in Jax's old bedroom, looking out the window, smoking one cigarette after another. She knew that just a few yards away, a group of outlaw bikers was sitting around a table, discussing her fate. Felt a little bit like being on trial. _How did I get here?_ _What the fuck did I do to deserve the shit piled up around my head?_ She exhaled, looking out into the Teller-Morrow lot. Truth was that she liked it here. Increasingly, she'd felt safe and comfortable with these men. She didn't want to leave, and not just because she was afraid of what would happen if she was on her own.

If they let her stay, she realized, there would have to be something in it for them. They could find someone to do the office work who didn't come with the trouble she did. She lit another cigarette. She'd seen the way they passed women around here. She'd looked down on those girls, to tell the truth, but it was clear that they were connected, not family, maybe, but part of the circle. She exhaled. If that's what she needed to do, she could do that.

Jax opened the door to the room so quietly that V. didn't even notice, lost in her own thoughts and staring out the window. She was so pretty, sitting in the dark room, her silhouette lit from outside. He leaned into the doorway, watching her. When she realized he was there and looked away from the window, he smiled at her. Closing the door and approaching, he reached out and touched her hair. "How you doin' baby?"

She nodded. "OK," she said. She stubbed the cigarette out in the overflowing ashtray.

He sat next to her on the bed. "You good to stay here?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "That OK with the Club?"

"Yeah." He paused, touching her hair again, then her face. "We want to keep you safe."

She closed her eyes for a moment, resting her face against his hand. It would be good--great, really--to be able to just be kept safe. Or even just to pretend for a little while.


	5. Chapter 5

V. looked in the mirror, discouraged. Her clothes weren't right, and nothing she could borrow from the tarts that swarmed around SAMCRO after Church on a Friday night was going to fit. The party had already started in the clubhouse; she could hear the clink of bottles and the laughter of the members.

She'd thought, for the briefest of moments last night, that she was wrong about having just sold herself to the club in return for protection. The way Jax had touched her face, the gentleness in his eyes, allowed her to believe that maybe there would be another way. He'd gotten up and left then, though, kissing her chastely, like he had in the parking lot. And she'd tossed and turned the night away in that narrow bed. There are only so many roles for women in a boys club, V. knew. Even if nobody said it out loud, the expectation was going to be there. Even if they were nice to her, there was no reason to believe that to these guys she was anything other than pussy.

"Damaged pussy at that," she grumbled at her reflection. Wearing just her bra, the mirror clearly reflected her scarred abdomen. _Can't quite see anybody taking tequila shots off that._

Sighing, she pulled the last tank top out of her bag. It was too small--laundry wasn't V.'s strong suite and it had shrunk. Usually, she wouldn't wear it without something over it. Assessing herself in the mirror, she decided it would work. Her nicer, tighter jeans, boots, more makeup than usual, lots of cleavage. _God,_ she groaned inwardly. _You're not even a sweetbutt. You're like an over the hill sweetbutt wanna be._

Glancing at herself in the mirror one last time, setting her jaw, V. turned and left the room.

**

"Brother, what new temptation is this?" Chibs gestured across the room, his eyes widening. Jax followed his gaze and was similarly surprised. V. was at the bar, having just taken a tequila shot. Straddling a bar stool, her legs hooked into its rungs, she was leaning over farther than was strictly necessary, ensuring all onlookers a generous view of her first rate rack, then throwing her head back to laugh. Both Juice and Tig, sitting near her, were watching in what seemed to be wonder. Astonished, Jax and Chibs continued to watch as she pulled back her hair in what had to be an invitation, followed as it was by Juice licking salt out of her throat, then taking his own shot of Patron.

"She's on the prowl, is she?" Chibs wondered aloud. "Not the direction I'd have expected her to go Jacky boy."

"Yeah, me neither," Jax muttered as Gemma came up behind the two men.

"You seein' this?" Her eyes, too, were on V. When Opie came up behind her to get a beer from the bar, V. leaned back against him, smiling up. He leaned down to say something to her; she whispered back in his ear. Opie hadn't given any woman more than a glance since Donna's death, but he seemed amused, at the very least, at whatever V. had said to him.

"What the fuck is she doing?" Gemma wondered aloud. "That girl's been in the garage for weeks, putting you all off like skirt chasing school boys. Now, all of a sudden, she's smiling and flashing her tits like she wants to play? Did somebody slip her something?"

Jax briefly considered that possibility. Tig might not be above that. But he looked as pleasantly confused by this new V. as everyone else, and didn't seem to be trying to steer her towards him. She didn't even really look drunk. He'd seen her drunk, the first night she was in town. She hadn't acted anything like this. Jax remembered the way she'd kissed him on the side of the road, the insistence of her lips and of her hands under his shirt. He'd figured, after hearing her story the day before, that she'd put the brakes on that not because of him but because of her own fear. What, then, was this?

"If you'll excuse me, Gemma," Chibs said, his eyes on the stool next to V. Juice had just vacated. "I suddenly feel the need for a drink."

Gemma looked at her son. Just yesterday she'd seen him move between this girl and the man who was threatening her without giving it a thought. She'd also seen him hold her in the parking lot, and even noticed him checking on her while she slept in the bedroom that used to be his. His eyes were certainly on her now.

Clay came up behind Gemma, putting his arms around her waist. "Looks like our little V. is making herself at home," he commented. "Didn't peg her for a sweetbutt, but it don't look bad on her."

Jax fumed. _A sweetbutt is exactly what she's acting like. _Damn woman was more confusion than she was worth. He thought again of the night by the side of the road, of his feeling that she wanted him to play the bad boy, that she was just a groupie after all. _Having a sob story doesn't make her more than that,_ he thought.

Chibs was pulling the laughing V. off her stool. "C'mon," he said. "Body like that, I know you want to dance." V. didn't put down her beer bottle, just held it in one hand as she wrapped her arms around Chibs' neck. He pulled her closer to him, one hand on her ass. She didn't pull away, just smiled and swayed against him.

As the night wore on, Jax's anger grew. Though he tried to put her out of his mind, he couldn't help but notice V. as she worked the room, bringing beers, teasing, flashing her cleavage, and completely ignoring him. As he watched her, perched on Bobby's lap, running her finger over Chibs' scars, even giggling and rubbing her cheek against Opie's beard, Jax got progressively drunker. Finally, he noticed her at the bar alone, downing yet another shot, and decided he'd had enough.

Crossing the room quickly, he grabbed her hand as soon as she put the shot glass down. "Come on," he said. Making sure everyone was watching, he led her towards the bedroom.

The door had barely clicked shut when Jax pushed V. up against it. His mouth covered her's roughly, not asking permission but making a claim. He wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled her head back, moving his lips over her throat. She didn't protest, but reacted in kind, her hands first pushing off his cut, then unbuttoning his shirt. _So this is what she wants,_ he thought, covering her mouth with his again. _Bitch wants to be taken; I can take her._

V.'s mind protested the situation. She'd left this room tonight knowing she'd probably be coming back to it with one of the Sons, to play a scene much like this one. What she hadn't intended, though, was for it to be Jax. Jax, the one she actually wanted. The one who, most of all, she didn't want to feel like she was paying a debt to with her body. She'd avoided him all evening, kept her ridiculous charade as far from him as possible, and still, here he was. She thought, briefly, about trying to say no, to put him off. Even as her mind considered it, though, her body rebelled, wanting him as much as she ever had. Besides, no matter what her own sentimentality said, she owed him as much as any of them--more. If this was the payment he wanted, how could she not pay?

His hands were under her shirt now. Pulling his face away from her's, he pulled it over her head. She stared at him, he at her. Neither of them smiled. Her expression was a match for his-desire and anger and the hunger for something, just one fucking thing, to hook up right. He shrugged out of his shirt and stood bare-chested before her. "Take your boots off." Neither of them pretended it wasn't an order.

V. propped one leg up on the desk chair, pulling up her jeans and unlacing her boot. When she followed with the other leg, she didn't attempt to hide the knife strapped to her calf.

"Am I gonna wake up with that at my throat?" Jax's voice was low and gravelly.

V. straightened, then placed her hand over the knife always in its holster at Jax's waist. "You keep yours put away, I'll keep mine in the sheath."

Jax smiled, then moved her hand from his knife to rest squarely on the hardness in his jeans. "Darlin'," he whispered, moving his face closer to her's, "I got no intention of keeping mine put away." His tongue moved over his lips, his eyes still hard on her's.

V. smiled back, keeping her hand where it was while Jax worked his thumbs under her bra, unhooking it expertly. As it fell to the floor, his smile widened. Not only did she have nice tits, but there was a silver ring in each nipple. He tugged experimentally on one ring, noting with satisfaction the hiss that came from between her teeth. Then he dipped his head down, repeating the tugging, harder the time, with his mouth. This was going to be fun.

Jax's hands were at V.'s belt when they heard the pounding on the door. It was followed by Chibs' voice, "Get out here, kid. We got company."

Jax responded instantly, pulling his face from her chest, then grabbing his cut from the floor and throwing it on without a shirt. "Stay here," he said. His hand grazed her waist, then he was gone. Looking down at her bare stomach, V. realized that for the last few minutes, she'd completely forgotten about the scar.

**

The party's crashers were not, as V. feared, men from King Leo's crew. They were Nords, cranked up on a Friday night and stupid enough to march right into the Teller-Morrow parking lot. There was a fight, but it was brief. Fists, some knives, no guns. Still, there was plenty of blood by the time V. left the bedroom.

"Sweetie," Gemma hollered at V., "go get some gauze. And ice." She was holding her hand up to a bleeding gash in Opie's head. "Can you patch this up?" V. nodded, running back to the kitchen for the supplies. Gemma continued making the rounds of the room, checking everybody out.

"What did you get hit with?" V. asked, dabbing at the cut.

"Bottle," he responded. "It's no big deal."

V. smiled kindly. "Gotta love a man who can say no problem to a bottle to the head," she said. Opie smiled back at her, noticing her revealing tank top had been replaced by the flannel shirt Jax had been wearing earlier. Her flirtatious act, too, was gone. This was the V. to whom everyone had become accustomed.

"So what was that about earlier?" Opie asked, wincing slightly as V. rubbed antiseptic on the gash in his head.

"What was what about?"

"The sweetbutt act. Ain't you."

V.'s expression changed; she met his eyes levelly. "I wasn't born yesterday, Ope," she said. "I know everybody pays their dues. I appreciate what Sam Crow is doing for me, but it ain't free."

Opie was about to respond when Gemma returned. "Everything OK?" she asked.

"Yeah," V. said. "This looks worse than it is." She had the bleeding stopped.

Gemma smiled at her. "You done this before?"

V. smiled back. "Yeah." She didn't elaborate. She looked around the room. A few black eyes forming, Tig holding a wadded up tee-shirt to a gash in his arm. Everybody was OK.

Jax came up next to Opie. "You alright bro?"

Opie nodded, smiling in V.'s direction. "Got a good doctor."

"Not a doctor," V. said. "Just seen my share of bottles to the face is all."

"Good," Gemma snorted. "We tried that doctor thing. Didn't work out so well." She glanced, her lips smirking, at her son. He nodded slightly, looking briefly sad.

V. turned her attention to Jax. There was a cut on his cheek--not deep, just from a ring or something. She reached up and touched it. "Want me to clean that up for you?"

"Nah, it's fine." He leaned closer to her, his lips near her ear. "Not exactly the kind of touch I was expecting tonight."

Gemma looked again at her son, and at the girl he whose ear he was speaking into. He was still shirtless under his cut, his shirt buttoned up around her frame. _Whatever that shit was about earlier,_ Gemma thought, _she'd better be over it now. Boy's got enough shit without her fucking with his head. _She didn't look like she was fucking with him now, though. Her face was open as she looked at him, laughing at whatever he'd said.

"I'm gonna go find a shirt," Jax said. "Be right back."

"You want this one?" V. asked, lifting the hem of the blue flannel she was wearing.

"No," he said, smiling. "Looks good on you."

As she turned away, Opie grabbed V.'s hand. "Listen," he said in a low voice. "You got it wrong. Nobody's expecting you to be their whore."

V. smiled at him, a little sadly, thinking of the rough feeling of Jax's hands earlier, his commanding voice. _You're the one who has it wrong,_ she thought. _That's exactly what they're expecting._ She shrugged, then walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

On the picnic table in the Teller-Morrow garage, V. sat with a beer between her legs, half-listening to Half-Sack and Chibs trading insults. It was hot, again, and as soon as V. finished in the stifling office she escaped to the relative cool of the garage. Around her, the garage was closing up for the evening, the mechanics finishing their work and heading home.

Jax came up behind V., wiping his hands on a grease rag. "You got one of those for me?" he asked, gesturing to the beer between her thighs.

"I could probably be persuaded to go get you one," she responded. Getting up off the table, she pretended she didn't notice all of the sets of eyes watching her ass as she walked over to the clubhouse.

"I know I've said this before," Juice said as he approached the table. "But my God is that a fine piece of ass."

"You ain't lyin' my brother," Chibs responded.

"Definite chubby material," Half-Sack agreed. "Wonder how she feels about younger men?"

Jax cuffed the prospect in the ear. "Don't even think about it, junior. That is way more than you can handle." His eyes followed V. into the clubhouse. Her hair was up, her white tank top sticking to her sweaty skin, her jeans riding low.

"Looks to be more than you can handle, kid," Chibs said, eyebrow raised. "Haven't noticed you spending any nights in the clubhouse." It was true--since the night the fight with the Nords had interrupted them, he hadn't seen much of V. He was busy, with club business and with trying to spend time with Abel, and nothing in her manner was particularly encouraging. She'd remained friendly and flirtatious, just like she'd been at the party. Not just to him, though--to everybody. He hadn't heard about her letting any of the other club members into her bed, but noticing how she treated everyone, and remembering seeing her flaunt herself, he knew it was coming.

"Nah," Jax replied, determined to keep his status intact at the very least. His eyes followed her as she walked back across the lot. "I can handle it."

Before V. got back to the table, she was nearly run over by a Corvette screeching into Teller-Morrow.

"LuAnn?" Bobby asked, approaching the table. "What's the Porn Queen want?"

LuAnn hopped out of the car and approached the group. "Can one of you take a look at this goddamn thing?" she said, gesturing to the car. "Fuckin' stallin' again." As she spoke, V. returned, handing one of the beer bottles in her hand to Jax, passing the others around.

LuAnn turned to look at V. She eyed the younger woman critically, looking her up and down and pursing her lips.

"Those tits real?"

V. looked taken aback. She'd not previously met LuAnn and had no idea the interest was professional. Jax smirked. Juice grinned widely, trying not to laugh aloud. The others hid their smiles, waiting to see V.'s response.

"Uh...yeah." The entire group focused on V.'s chest. LuAnn reached out and squeezed one of V.'s breasts.

"Damn. They are. Pierced, too, huh?" She looked V. up and down again. "You need work? You could earn." She nodded. "Yeah, in fact, I could put you in right away. You clean?"

V.'s eyes widened. _Earn? This bitch thinks I'm a whore?_ Her hands automatically made fists. Jax, noting V.'s reaction, decided that as amusing as this all was, he had better intercede for LuAnn's own safety. He stepped between them.

"V., this is LuAnn. LuAnn is Otto's old lady. She's also a, uh, film producer. LuAnn, this is V."

"Film..." V. trailed off. "Oh. Right."

"So what about it?" LuAnn asked again. "You wanna come in and test shoot?"

"LuAnn, I don't think V. is in the business," Jax said. "She's just...a friend of the club."

LuAnn shrugged. "OK," she said. "Usually the Crow Eaters are beggin' to get into my movies, but suit yourself." She returned her attention to the table. "No, who's gonna look at my car?"

V. sat back down on the table, her beer bottle forgotten and dangling from her hand. "What," she said slowly, "is a Crow Eater?"

Tig, who'd watched the entire interaction from a few feet away, approached her, coming in close to her face. "Crow Eater is a bitch who eats," he grabbed his crotch for emphasis, "Crow."

V. reddened. _Should have seen that coming_, she thought.

Tig continued. "You should do it. Make LuAnn's movies. Gotta be a pretty good market for scarred up pussy." He nodded. "Get you doin' somethin', too." He grinned. "Nobody rides for free."

V. stood up, her cheeks hot. "I got stuff to do," she mumbled, then walked back to the office.

Jax shook his head, looking at Tig, then turned and walked after V. When he got to the office, she was sitting at the desk, jabbing numbers into the adding machine. She was shaking, and it looked to be more rage than fear this time. She didn't look at him when he entered the room.

"Babe," he began, "don't let it get to you." He sat down on the desk in front of her, picking her face up in his hand and forcing her to look at him. "Tig, he don't know what to make of a woman who ain't anybody's old lady and still won't suck his dick." He smiled at her.

V. sighed and didn't answer. Looking at him, she saw that same compassion and curiosity in his eyes she'd seen the day she came to Charming.

Jax continued. "I gotta go home. Mom's got errands to run and she'll skin me if I don't come and take the kid." He smiled at V. again. "You gonna be alright?"

V. nodded, setting her mouth. Maybe tonight she should just do it--respond to one of the advances that had been coming her way every night since she'd moved in to the clubhouse. _I'd rather go back out on the road by myself than have it be Tig_, she thought, _but Chibs or Juice--that might be alright. I could do that._

Jax turned away, then stopped at the door and turned back to her. "Hey," he said. "Why don't you come with me? Meet my boy."

V. nodded slowly. She knew what he was asking.

**

"You the new night nurse?" Gemma sneered, seeing V. come in the door behind Jax. While she was getting used to having the girl around the garage, liked her, almost, Gemma was not ready to see her and her trouble anywhere near her grandson.

V. met the older woman's gaze. "Somethin' like that." Her posture made it clear that she wasn't going to back down. Gemma nodded curtly.

"You know anything about kids?

V.'s face darkened. "Yeah," she said quietly. "I had a baby brother."

Jax took the sleeping Abel from Gemma's arms. "It's fine, Mom," he said. "I got it. Go do your shit."

After Gemma left, Jax put Abel down in the crib, then turned to V. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "She's just...protective."

"I get that" V. answered. "You, him," she gestured to the crib. "You're what she lives for. You're lucky."

Jax smiled and nodded slightly. "Yeah." It seemed, for a moment, that he was going to kiss V., but then he stopped, making a face.

"Can you keep an eye on the kid for a few minutes?" he asked. "I gotta take a shower. Too fucking hot today."

V. laughed. "Yeah, of course."

While Jax was in the shower, V. paced around the living room, trying to figure out how this was all going to play out. It wasn't like she hadn't thought about it--since the night of the party, she had finished what they'd started in her head countless times. Now that she was here, though, she felt restless. She took off her boots, still overly warm. Then she tried to busy herself picking up the room. _Jax isn't much of a housekeeper,_ she thought. Feeling marginally better busy, she started to wash the small collection of dishes built up on the counter.

Coming out of the bathroom in just his jeans, his bare feet quiet on the floor, Jax came up behind V. He wrapped his arms around her waist and put his face into her hair. She leaned back against him, closing her eyes. _Don't overthink it,_ she told herself. _This is going to happen. Just let it happen._ Jax reached into her hair, unpinning it and letting it fall around her shoulders. She turned slightly, meeting his mouth with her's. As he kissed her, he slid one hand under her shirt, laying it flat against her stomach. He felt her tense as his palm touched her scar.

"It's OK darlin'," he whispered. Very softly, he traced the line the scar made on her stomach. Finding the top of it, a bit below her bra, he ran his finger down to where it ended, just under the waistband of her jeans.

"This gonna be alright?" he asked. "I mean, you gonna be OK to," he trailed off, moving his hand off the scar and on to the button of her jeans, "let me inside?"

Her voice seemed small. "Yeah. I think so. I...I haven't...since. But I think it's fine."

He nodded, his grip around her tightening. "What about in your head?" He pulled his head back from her's slightly so that he could look into her eyes. "We don't have to do this."

V. raised an eyebrow. "You tellin' me you don't want to?"

Jax smiled, pulling her a bit closer so that she could feel his hardness against her ass. "What do you think?"

She arched her back, grinding herself back against him. "I think," she said, exhaling, enjoying the feeling, "that you should stop asking me questions."

He smiled fully then. "Alright," he said. He pulled her around so she was facing him, then kissed her again, harder this time. She responded in kind, catching his bottom lip between her teeth and pulling. His hands cupped her ass, she ran her's down his chest. Grabbing her wrists, he led her down the hall.

In the bedroom, V. spoke again. "Abel gonna be OK?" she said.

"Yeah. He'll sleep awhile."

"Good. This is gonna take awhile." She could feel him smiling into her hair, then he lifted her shirt over her head. While he watched, she reached back and unhooked her bra, then dropped it off her shoulders. As he reached for her tits, moving his thumbs in circles around the piercings in her nipples, her hands found his SAMCRO belt buckle. After his jeans and boxers had fallen to the floor, she stepped back, looking at him. She raised her eyebrows, appreciative of what she saw. He grinned, then moved his hands to her waist. He stripped her of her jeans and panties in what seemed to be one motion, lifting her off the ground so her ankles could escape them, then pushing her onto the bed. His earlier gentle and tentative caresses were gone now. Looking at her, he didn't see anything damaged, or broken, or in need of special handling. He saw a woman whom he wanted desperately, had wanted since the moment he saw her, and her offering herself to him. This was a scene he knew how to play.

V. tipped her head back and moaned as his mouth landed on her nipple and his hand pressed between her legs. She'd wanted him just as bad as he did her, and for just as long. Her mind, now, was beyond worrying about whether she was paying a debt, or what would be asked of her later. She felt the same way she had on the back of his bike, driven by instinct, with no thought, or shame, or fear. She leaned back against the pillows and spread her knees, willing him between them.

He didn't enter her slowly. He pushed in all at once, hard, hands in her hair for leverage. She gasped, cried out softly, then wrapped her legs around him. He pulled up, looking into her face. "Am I hurting you?" His breathe was ragged.

"God, yes," she said, and then, "don't stop." He smiled and increased his pace. She met his thrusts, bucking her hips and arching her back.

Jax had been with hundreds of women. Sometimes, it had been very good. Most times, it had been neither good nor bad, just part of the life. He couldn't remember all of their names, or their faces, or how it had felt to be inside them. He could remember nights with Wendy where he'd slapped her face to make sure she stayed conscious, mean nights that ended with both of them bruised and passed out. He could remember nights with Tara, early on, where everything seemed so pure and so hopeful that it had nearly brought him to tears; and later, where they clung to each other for hours out of fear and need for comfort that they never quite got. This with V., it was different. He looked into her face while he rocked inside of her. Her eyes were open, clear, and there were no ghosts. Her features weren't distorted in his mind by any memories. All he saw was her, here, now. It was the first time in a long time that this had felt just right.


	7. Chapter 7

Jax woke up reaching out for the woman on the other side of the bed. When his had met only air, he frowned. It was true he'd woken up alone a lot more lately than he ever had in the past, but he knew that this was not one of those nights. He smiled slightly, remembering. V. hadn't been kidding when she said it was going to take awhile. The first time had led into the second and then into the third. She was insatiable. It had been a long time since he'd had to work that hard in bed. Abel had woken, been fed and changed, gone back to sleep, and there'd still been more to come. When he'd finally fallen asleep, her head on his chest, he'd been exhausted. But she wasn't here now.

Getting up and slipping on his jeans, Jax walked into the kitchen. The room was dark, lit only by the slight light coming from the nightlight in Abel's room. V. was sitting at the table, cross-legged in one of the chairs. She was wearing only a flannel shirt she'd probably picked up off the floor, her legs bare. In front of her on the table was a whiskey bottle that had been on the counter, mostly empty. There was a shot glass next to it.

Jax sat down next to V., looking through the dim into her face.

"You OK?"

She smiled. Her sad eyes were back, the clear, lusty look they'd held for hours earlier gone. She spoke slowly. "That...didn't feel the way I expected it to feel."

He raised an eyebrow, then grinned. "Better?"

She laughed softly. "Yeah, better. But also...more complicated."

He tilted his head, questioning. She shifted uncomfortably in the chair.

"Did I hurt you?"

She smiled again. "Only as much as I wanted you to. It's not that."

Jax reached over and took the bottle, drinking straight from it. After drinking, he glanced at the level of liquid in it. "You made a pretty big dent in this. Must be something wrong." He handed it back to her. She ignored the glass, taking a drink straight from the bottle herself.

"You done with me now?" she asked, finally.

He looked puzzled. "What do you mean? Done with you?"

She swallowed. She had promised herself not to ask these questions, just to let it go, but it was like being with him had broken a dam inside her. She couldn't stop. "I thought that after I did this once, I'd be OK with it and I could be what I need to be now. But I don't know if I can." She sighed. "I know I owe you--owe the Club." Her voice got lower, like she was talking to herself. "Nobody rides for free." She looked down at the table.

"Did this once?" Jax was astonished. "What you need to be? What the fuck are you talking about?" He leaned forward, grabbing her chin with his hand and forcing her face up. "Is that what you think this is? You think you've gotta be some kind of pass around now?"

V. met his stare, but her eyes were afraid. "Isn't that how it works, Jax? What use does Sam Crow have for a woman who is nobody's old lady and won't suck cock?"

Unable to resist, Jax smiled. "Babe, you do suck cock." His mind filled with the image and the feeling, her hair brushing against his thighs, her mouth hot on him.

She rolled her eyes. "That's exactly it. Now that I've been with you, they'll know they can get a piece." She spoke again as if to herself, like she was just figuring something out. "They knew you were interested in me, so they had to wait for you get there first."

"That's what this is about?" His voice was low now, too. There was no more laughter in it. "You think me fucking you was some kind of status thing? Me proving I'm top dog in the club?" Jax tried to keep the lid on his anger, but his voice was terse.

"What else would it be?" V. asked. She didn't seem angry so much as resigned.

He shook his head. She was unbelievable. "I just wanted you," he said. He was quiet for a moment, then continued. "And you," he paused again, remembering her moans, the way she'd used her strong legs to pull him farther into her, "you weren't just paying a debt."

She exhaled. "No."

He smiled. "Good." He stood up, placing his hand on the back of her neck. "C'mon. Come back to bed." He grinned wider. "You wore me out."

She smiled back and let him lead her back into the bedroom, her fears not so much satiated as put off. As they climbed back into the bed, Jax pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her and holding tightly.

**

When Jax and V. pulled into the Teller-Morrow lot the next morning, all eyes were on them. They were late--Abel had not wanted to eat and getting out of the house had taken longer than either of them expected. Most of the Sons were already in the garage, and Gemma in the office.

As V. got off the back of Jax's bike, he grabbed her hand. "Listen," he said. "Don't let them get to you." Knowing that they were being watched, he wrapped his arms around her, kissing her long and hard. Before he pulled away, Clay was walking towards them on the lot.

"If you're done dry-humping my help," he said, "we got things to discuss." Jax nodded curtly and turned towards the clubhouse.

Entering the office and seeing Gemma at the desk, V. sighed inwardly. Her head already ached from her late night date with the whiskey bottle. Other parts of her ached, too.

"Nice you could join me," Gemma said.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

"Abel OK?"

V. thought about denying where she'd been, but there was no use to it. Everyone already knew. "Yeah. Just a little fussy with the bottle."

Gemma nodded. "You have fun playing," she paused, smirking, "mommy?"

V. didn't respond. _Might as well just let her get it out,_ she thought.

Gemma continued. "I know what you're thinking. Get your hooks in Jax, you'll be safe." She nodded. "Smart. It's what I'd do. Start at the top, keep you from having to blow everybody comes through here to keep your place. Hope you don't think you've done it, though." She shook her head. "Jax'll take his taste, but his heart ain't in it. You...you're not sweet enough for Jax. You've seen too much; done too much. He wants to come home to somethin' clean." She looked V. up and down, taking in the same clothes she'd had on yesterday, Jax's blue flannel over the top. "You ain't clean."

**

The members of SAMCRO surrounded the the redwood table. The regular business hadn't taken long and there had been no disagreements. Then Clay brought up his last order of business. "I had Juice dig up some intel on our new Russian friends. Seems little V. wasn't exaggerating."

Juice nodded. "This King Leo is the real deal. Operation looks to be just what V. said--H and coke out of South America through South Texas. Bad motherfuckers, too. Drop lots of bodies."

Clay lit his cigar. He puffed out the smoke. "What about V.?"

Juice grinned. "She wasn't hard to find. Grew up in Texas, in the system." He took a piece of paper from his pocket. "Arrests going back to before she had tits. Assault. Assault with a deadly weapon. Grand theft auto. Assaulting an officer. Resisting arrest. Arson. Assault." He snorted. "Public indecency. Drunk and disorderly. And another assault. No convictions as an adult, though."

"Great," Clay muttered. "A violent bitch. And her association to the Russians?" Clay asked.

"Not sure. But she was in the hospital, like she said. Major abdominal knife wound."

Clay nodded. "If she's gonna stay here, we need to know more about who might be after her." He looked at Jax. "Think you can get your dick out of her for long enough to talk about that?"

A round of guffaws passed around the table. Jax glared and nodded. "Yeah, I'll talk to her."

"Alright," said Clay, banging the gavel. "That's it."

As the Sons left the Chapel, Opie fell into step beside Jax. He whistled softly. "Quite the sheet," he said.

Jax nodded. "She's a tough girl," he said.

Opie thought about what V. had told him the night of the fight with the Nords, about the debt she was paying to the Club. She hadn't looked so tough then. He was quiet a moment, then said, "She thinks she owes us, you know."

Jax nodded again, thinking of the conversation they'd had in his kitchen last night.

"You collectin' on that debt?"

Jax stared at his friend. It was a far more direct question than he'd usually ask. "It's not like that," he finally said.

Opie nodded, then smiled slyly. "Good. Sounds of it, she'd probably cut your balls off."

As Opie walked away, Jax thought again about the long previous night. It had been so good--not just the sex, but afterward the feeling of stillness, of calm, of peace. The last few months had been crippling. Being with V. didn't make it disappear, but instead made it feel bearable. Like something that could be conquered, or at least lived through. In the daylight, though, he felt cautious. He'd loved the idea of being with Tara, in part, because she was a doctor. It was as if she could counteract the damage he did, taking people apart, by putting them back together. V., though, seemed as likely as he did to be the one doing the taking apart. Exasperated, Jax tried to shake these thoughts from his mind. As good as last night had been, he wasn't about to give up another chance at it over some ridiculous concerns about symmetry.

**

V. was walking back from dropping off a Teller-Morrow deposit at the bank. Knowing she had no transportation, Gemma asked V. to drop off the deposit just to mess with her. V. didn't mind, though--she was happy to get out of the garage, where it felt as if everyone was watching her. In no hurry to return, she was lost in her own thoughts. V. had hoped that spending the night with Jax would help to get him out of her mind--she had wondered what it would be like, and now she knew. But he wasn't out of her mind. She could feel him with each step, and much as she tried to redirect them, her thoughts kept coming back to him. _Don't be stupid,_ she chided herself. _So he's good in bed. No--he's great in bed. That doesn't mean shit, other than he's had lots of practice. You know how these men treat women. You don't want any part of this._ She thought about what Gemma told her, and saw the truth in it. Jax was the kind of man who wanted a woman he could take care of, keep in the dark when he needed to. A woman who would do his dishes and take care of his babies and not ask too many questions. V. was not that kind of woman.

As lost as she was in her own head, V. didn't hear the van pulling up behind her until the doors opened. She barely had time to pull out the straight razor from the pocket of her jeans before they were on her. Three of them, attempting to force her into the van. The first grabbed her from behind. V. whipped around before he could get a good hold on her and pulled the blade across his cheek. He fell to the ground, clutching his bleeding face, cursing her in a foreign tongue. She wasn't so lucky with the second man. He wrenched her arm behind her, the razor falling from her hand. She kicked, flailed, but made little contact. He hit her in the face, then smashed her against the van. The third man moved around to the van's other side, opening the door.

Opie and Half-Sack were just leaving the garage in the tow truck, on their way to pick up a repo. "What the fuck?" said Opie, noticing the fight across the street. He stopped the truck.

"Shit," said Half-Sack. "That's V!" Opie was already out the door and running across the street. V., in the meantime, had managed to pull away from the man holding her arm, though her shirt was ripped most of the way off. She backed away from him a few paces, then leaned down, quickly, and pulled a knife from her boot.

Holding up the knife and spitting blood, V. looked at the man. "You want me? Come and get me you son of a bitch. I'll slit your fucking throat." V. saw Opie and Half-Sack running towards her, but the men, facing V., didn't notice them. The bigger of the two lunged at V. She moved to the side and caught him, plunging the knife deep into his stomach. The man staggered back, his eyes wide. He moaned something unintelligible.

Half-Sack stood over the man whose face V. had cut, his foot against the man's stomach. Opie grabbed the third man, hitting him hard in the jaw. With the man V. had stabbed and the one whose face she'd cut bleeding badly, the third man held up his hands as if in surrender, backing away from Opie. The two bleeding men, too, backed away, all but crawling into the van. With the uninjured man behind the wheel, they took off.

"Holy shit," said Half-Sack, approaching V. "Are you alright? Who were those guys?"

V. sat on the curb. She was bleeding from her mouth and from a cut on the side of her face. Her eye was swelling. The arm that had been pulled behind her back hung limply. Her shirt--Jax's shirt--hung off her, ripped from hem to armpit on one side, most of the buttons gone. She was breathing heavily. She said nothing, just stared into the street.

Opie sat beside her, gingerly putting an arm around her shoulders. "Come on," he said. "We gotta get you back to the clubhouse." V. nodded, still not saying anything. She stood up, then hesitated, looking around. Seeing her knife where it had dropped when her attacker pulled it from his stomach, she picked it up.

"Do you know them?" Half-Sack asked, waiting as V. climbed into the middle of the tow truck seat.

"No," she said, finally. "But they're Leo's." She reached her hand up and touched her bleeding face, then lowered it to where her shirt was ripped away, over the scar on her stomach.

**

V. sat on a chair in the clubhouse, spitting blood into a wadded up paper towel. Everyone was talking at once. Half-Sack was gesturing excitedly at Chibs, pantomiming V.'s sticking her knife into the man's belly. Opie was speaking softly to Juice, relating the license plate number on the van. Gemma held a rag to V.'s head, trying to soak up the blood streaming from the side of her face to see what was underneath. Jax was at V.'s other side, brushing the hair from her face.

"Everybody shut the fuck up and somebody tell me what the fuck happened," Clay yelled. Slowly, they all quieted.

"Me and Opie were goin' on the repo," Half-Sack began.

V. cut him off, speaking through her bloody mouth. "I got jumped. Three guys. Leo's crew. Opie and Half-Sack saved my ass."

Opie snorted. "Not exactly. V. already had them runnin' when we got there."

Half-Sack jumped in again. "She cut one of them in the face and stabbed the other one in the gut!"

The men all looked at V. Gemma, still attending to V.'s face, smiled slightly. "You cut two of them?" Clay asked, he raised his eyebrows in what almost seemed to be approval.

"Yeah."

"Bad?"

"The guy with the face cut will be alright. That was just a razor. The belly I don't know."

"What did you stab him with?" Chibs asked.

V. pulled away from Gemma's hand, leaning down and pulling the still bloody knife from her boot sheath. She handed it to Chibs. Several sets of eyes widened.

"That could do some damage." Chibs said, handing it back.

V. nodded. _I ought to know,_ she thought. She shoved it back into her boot.

"This isn't too bad," Gemma said, motioning to the cut on V.'s face. "Could probably use a couple of stitches."

V. shook her head. "I been hit before," she said. "It's fine."

"You need to see the doc?" Clay asked.

"No. I'm alright." V. responded. She shrugged her shoulders. "Thought the shoulder might be dislocated, but it's not. Just sore."

Clay nodded. "You think these guys will be back tonight?" he asked.

Opie broke in. "I don't. Guy V. stabbed--he was bleedin' out."

Clay nodded towards Juice. "Call St. Thomas. See if he's come in." Juice nodded, then left the room.

Clay moved a bit towards V. Almost imperceptibly, Jax stepped closer to her. "You rest some," he said. "Then we gotta talk about these guys." He leaned forward, unexpectedly, and kissed her forehead quickly before turning and leaving the room.

"I'm going back to the office," Gemma said. She, too, leaned over and kissed V. "You get some rest.

V. grinned, slightly lopsidedly, and looked at Jax. "I gotta get my ass beat more often," she said. "Suddenly she's nice to me."

"Won't last," Opie said dryly. "She's got a quota."

V. smiled again, then stepped gingerly off the stool. "Gonna go clean up," she said. Then, turning to Jax, "sorry about your shirt." He smiled at her, then squeezed her hand.

After V. left the room, Jax turned to Opie. "What the fuck?"

Opie smiled. "I know, brother. Wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it. Never seen a girl fight like that."

"She's good with the knife, too," said Half-Sack. "I wouldn't be surprised if she killed that bastard."

Opie nodded. "I wouldn't want to take her."

"Think she'd have gotten out of it if you hadn't come along?" Jax asked.

"Maybe," Opie said. "She was holdin' her own. But maybe not. Don't know how many more knives she has on her."

Jax shook his head slowly. Every urge in his body told him to go find the guys who had bloodied V.'s face and make them pay. But it didn't sound as if that was needed. Sounded like she'd done it herself.


	8. Chapter 8

When Jax entered the room, V. was lying on her back on the bed, smoking. She didn't look at him until he sat down next to her. He reached out, gently smoothing the hair out of her bruised face.

"How you doin'?"

She exhaled. "Fine. Arm's sore."

They were both quiet for a moment. Finally, Jax said, "Clay wants to talk to you."

"Figured he would." V. sighed. She seemed unsure as to whether to go on. Finally, she said, "What I told you all before--that was true."

Jax nodded. He considered his words carefully, then spoke. "Listen to what I'm tellin' you, but don't repeat it," he said. "If there's something more--something that Clay could use to hurt you--don't tell him. Don't trust him."

V. looked surprised. She'd noticed the tension between the Club's president and vice-president, but hadn't thought much of it.

"It's not like that," she said, finally.

"Good," Jax nodded. He wanted to tell V. about Donna, about what this club could do to you, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. She was an outsider. They were still his family. Still, he couldn't let her walk into a trap.

When V. and Jax came back out into the clubhouse's main room, most of the Sons had already congregated there. V. looked around the room, taking stock. The faces she saw seemed friendly. It had become hard to remember, given how the last few weeks had gone, that she shouldn't consider these men allies. She was further concerned by what Jax had just said--if Jax didn't trust Clay, there was no reason she should.

V. sat on a bar stool, the same place she'd sat the last time she'd answered to this group. Behind the bar, Half-Sack offered her a beer, which she accepted. Then she waited, quietly, for someone to say something. Jax leaned against the bar next to her, his eyes wary.

Finally, V. looked at Clay. "You wanted to talk to me?" she said.

Clay nodded. The others let their conversations die away, turning their attention to V. and Clay.

"Yeah," Clay said. "How'd you get so good with a knife?"

V. smiled. "Girls' reform school," she said. "East Texas. Those bitches will cut you if you don't cut them first."

Clay smiled back, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. He handed it to V. Glancing at it, she raised her eyebrows, then slid it back across the bar. "My arrest record?" she said. "Can't imagine you've got a problem with that." She nodded towards the collection of Sam Crow mugshots on the clubhouse wall.

"Lot of violent shit for a woman," Clay replied.

V. smiled knowingly. "I know," she said. "I was there." When Clay remained silent, she continued. "You do what you gotta do."

"Like today?" Clay asked.

"Yeah, like today."

"If you're so damn tough," Tig broke in, "why do you need Sam Crow's protection?"

V. turned to face him, meeting his cold eyes. "Only one of me," she said, simply. Thinking a moment about what she wanted to say, then deciding to go for it, she added, "and I like it here."

"What I don't get," said Bobby from across the room, "is why they're so keen on you? If the boss man just wanted a kid, what are you to him now? He want to knock you up again?"

The brave face V. had been wearing fell. "No," she said quietly. "They made sure that can't happen." She set her jaw again.

"Jesus," Bobby answered. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

V. nodded. The rest of the room was quiet. Taking a deep breath, V. continued. "The reason they want me," she said, "is that I know too much. When I was in the hospital, I had a lot of visitors. Federal visitors."

Lost in her memory, V. didn't notice the men in the room tensing. She continued. "I didn't give them anything. But Leo's paranoid. He knows I could. He wants to make sure that doesn't happen."

"How much do you know?" Clay asked.

"Plenty," V. replied. "Sources, routes, distribution network. Bodies. I was there quite a while. I paid attention."

"So why not turn?" Clay looked skeptical.

"Because that's not what you do," V. said sharply. Then, more quietly. "And it's not like they could bring my fucking baby back."

Jax moved closer to V. and put his arm around her shoulder. He glared at Clay.

"They won't stop if they think you're a rat," Tig said. "They'll keep coming."

V. nodded. "Yeah," she said. "They will."

The room was quiet again.

"Why not talk?" Clay asked. "These bastards are never going to leave you alone. They'll kill you if they catch you."

V. looked at Clay for a long time. "Would you?" she finally asked.

Clay smiled.

V. nodded. "That's what I thought. Look," she said. "If you want me gone, I'm gone. But I'm not going state's."

Jax looked at V. Her jaw was set. Clay, too, looked at V. His expression was grudgingly respectful. The other expressions in the room mirrored Clay's.

"If you're going to stay here," Clay said slowly, "we have to know you're a friend of the club."

"Anything I can do to help Sam Crow, I will," V. replied. "Thanks again to reform school, I'm good with the accounting. I'm decent with a knife and I'm a fair shot. I can fight--even did some bare knuckle circuit stuff once upon a time. I'm a pretty good medic. I can run errands. I can hot wire a car. I'm a shitty cook, but I'm not above trying." She paused, looking briefly at Jax, then continued. "What I'm not is a whore. I won't be passed around." She turned her eyes to Tig. "And the next time I hear anything about being in scarred pussy porn, I cut you."

Juice grinned widely. Opie bit back his smile. Everyone looked amused except for Tig. Chuckling, Clay said, "that's fair." Then he turned serious again. "Any idea what they'll send next?"

V. shook her head. "No idea."

"So we wait and see," said Jax. "You keep staying here. We keep our eyes open."

Clay nodded, then looked at V. "That OK with you?"

V. smiled. "Yeah. I'd appreciate that."

As the meeting broke up, Chibs and Half-Sack approached Jax and V. at the bar.

"So you're a brawler?" inquired Chibs, his eyebrow cocked.

V. smiled. "Have been, yeah."

"What, do you fight other girls?" Half-Sack asked.

V. looked amused. "Sometimes," she said. "More money in guys. When I was a kid, I passed and fought guys. But then," she looked down briefly at her breasts, "I outgrew being able to do that. So then more girls. Why? You wanna go a few rounds?"

"No. I'd never hit a girl."

V. rolled her eyes. "Right," she said. "Probably just as well." She raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't want to hurt you."

Half-Sack scowled, then stomped away.

Chibs and Jax both laughed. "Think you hurt the Prospect's feelings," Chibs said.

V. smiled. "All talk," she said. "I haven't been in a ring for years. I can't even lift my fucking arm. He'd kick my ass."

"How'd you get started scrapping?" Chibs asked. "Not usual for a girl. Get your pretty face hurt."

"Needed the money. Got out of reform, wasn't cut out for straight work. Hooked up with a guy for a while who trained fighters." V. shrugged, smiling again. The memory wasn't particularly bad. She liked to fight.

"What kind of man lets a woman fight for him?" Jax sneered.

V. turned to him, smirking. "I didn't fight for him," she said. "I fought for me."

Jax shook his head. "He should have been fighting for you," he said.

V. smiled a bit sadly, but didn't say anything. Jax looked closely at her bruised face. _Has anybody ever fought for you?_ he thought. He reached over and touched her hair. It seemed tragic to him, this beautiful woman with nobody on her side. _I'm on her side now,_ Jax thought. _We're on her side now._

Juice entered the room, phone in hand. He smiled at V. "How you feeling?"

"Fine. Thanks."

"I finally got an answer from St. Thomas. Guy you stabbed is in intensive care. They're not sure he's gonna make it."

V. nodded. Juice, Chibs, and Jax were all looking at her. "I'm sorry," V. said. "These motherfuckers gutted me and killed my baby. If you're looking for remorse, look somewhere else. I hope the son of a bitch dies."

***

V. sat in her room, looking in the mirror. The bruise and cut on her face weren't too bad. She moved her tongue experimentally around in her mouth--teeth were all secure, her lips just a little cut up. She picked up her brush and began to brush her hair. She thought of Jax last night, unable to keep his hands out of that hair. When he'd left tonight, he'd raised an eyebrow to her in invitation, but she'd declined. She hadn't wanted to say no; she'd wanted to jump right on the back of his bike and go wherever he'd take her. But given the speech she'd made earlier, and the need to be accepted by the club on her own, it hadn't seemed a wise idea.

The knock at the door surprised V. She was even more surprised to see Gemma come in and sit down on the unmade bed.

"I want to talk to you," Gemma said.

"OK." V. turned around in the chair and faced Gemma.

Gemma looked uncharacteristically unsure of what to say. She seemed ready to speak and then didn't a couple of times. V. just looked at her, waiting for whatever it was to come out. Finally, she began. "What those men did to you..." She trailed off.

"Today?" V. asked.

"No. Before. The baby."

V. nodded. Gemma continued. "That's the worst thing I can imagine. I...I lost a child. My son, Tommy."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah," Gemma exhaled. "Look. I know how you must hurt. Especially if you can't have another baby now. And I know you gotta be tough to cover that up. But..." she trailed off again. This time, V. didn't prompt her, having no idea what Gemma was going to say. Gemma started again. "We're here now," she finally said. "The Club, this family. We're here."

V. looked at Gemma, astonished. "Just this morning," she said, "you were telling me how I'm unclean. What's changed since then?"

Gemma smiled. "Nothing. You aren't clean. You fight for yourself. You're loyal. You're strong." She nodded. "Those are better things for a woman to be than sweet. I don't know if Jax will see that, but I do." She stood up, then leaned over and kissed V.'s forehead. As she was opening the door, she turned back. "Be careful," she said. "Don't hurt him. Don't let him hurt you."

V. didn't respond, and Gemma closed the door behind her.

V. lay awake for a long time. Her mind flooded, first with Jax, then with what Gemma had said, then with what might happen next with Leo's men. She tossed and turned; her arm hurt; her face hurt. It was much nicer to sleep with Jax, she thought. She knew, though, that she couldn't make a habit of it. _Jax has a son. He has to keep that boy safe. And I am not safe._ V. sighed. _Good thing I'm so damn practiced at being alone._

Finally, exasperated, V. got up. She pulled on her jeans and a tee-shirt and walked into the clubhouse's main room. To her surprise, Opie was sitting at the bar, cigarette in hand, beer in front of him. She sat next down next to him.

"Hey."

"Hey." Opie motioned to the pack lying in front of him and V. nodded. He handed her a cigarette, then leaned over to light it.

"Can't sleep?" he said.

"No. You either?"

"No."

They were quiet for a moment. Then Opie said, "it's easier, being here. At home, I feel like it's wrong--Donna's supposed to be there. She was never supposed to be here."

V. nodded. She knew Opie's wife had been killed in a drive-by shooting a few months earlier, but had never heard the man mention her before.

"She hated this life," Opie said. "Wanted out."

V. nodded again, smiling sympathetically. "But there is no out," she said.

"No. And I was so angry at her for not understanding that."

"Yeah." V. was quiet for a moment, then continued. "It's hard, for a woman. This isn't the life they teach you to want."

Opie nodded. "Seems to work for you," he finally said.

V. laughed softly. "I had the benefit of never having know another way," she said.

Opie smiled. "Like me. And Jax. We were never not going to be Sam Crow."

"Yep. Like that." It wasn't really like that, though, V. thought. Opie and Jax had been born into a family. An outlaw family is still a family.

"Is this the life you want?" Opie asked.

"Yeah," V. said. "You have a family here. You're brothers. I get that. I respect that." _I'd love to have that._

"What about the other stuff?"

V. looked at him with her brow furrowed, not sure what he meant.

"The guns, the danger, the threat of jail? The part Donna couldn't stand."

V. shook her head. "The man I stabbed today might die," she said. "And that is the very last thing keeping me awake tonight. But I think it would be different if I didn't know about it, know what it was for, or how it felt. If I just had to not ask questions and trust that my man was in the right when he was on the wrong side of the law. I'd probably have trouble with that." She paused a moment, thinking, then continued. "Maybe it's easier if the blood is on your hands."

Opie looked at V. He'd never thought of it that way. He'd always thought he was protecting Donna by telling her so little, keeping her safe and pure. _Would it have been easier if she'd known?_ Unable to talk anymore about Donna, he changed the subject.

"And you and Jax?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea."

Opie nodded. He'd watched Jax make mistake after mistake when it came to women. Tara, who could never live this life. Wendy, who could never live it sober. He knew his friend was struggling right now, finding his place in the club for the future. It was possible that V. could help.

"I'm glad you're here," he finally said.

V. smiled. "Me too," she said.


	9. Chapter 9

Things were tense around the redwood table. The last gun run north hadn't gone well--the Sons' low profile was blown, but they still had a deal with the Irish and were expected to deliver five dozen guns to the Oregon charter at the border in two days. The choice was between risking being caught with blankets full of illegal firearms or losing a very lucrative deal. That the deal was the club's only current gun business made things even more tenuous.

"After that shit outside Chico, our faces are being passed around all through the Northern Cal PDs," said Bobby. "No way we make that run without getting caught."

"But we don't make the run, brother, and we got no distributor," Chibs replied.

Jax nodded, biting his lip. He looked around the table. Nobody looked happy. They all knew the run was necessary, but nobody wanted to risk the high likelihood of it going terribly wrong.

"We need a mule," Tig mused.

Juice slapped the table. "I've got it!" he said. "V."

The other men in the room all turned to look at Juice.

"V.?" Clay asked. "What the fuck can V. do?"

"She can ride," Juice said. "She rode all the way here from Texas."

Tig nodded slowly. "She did say she wanted to help the club."

"No fuckin' way," said Jax. He turned to Clay. "Are you hearing this shit?"

Clay nodded, the smiled. "I am," he said. He nodded at Opie. "Get V. in here."

V. was concerned as she entered the Chapel. Though nobody had ever told her the room was off-limits, she'd understood it as being so. This had to be serious. The door shut behind her and she leaned against it. She looked around the room.

"When you rode out here," Clay began. "Anybody stop you?"

V. furrowed her brow, not quite sure of the question.

"Highway patrol, state PD, anybody?"

"Oh. No." V. paused. "Bike was stolen, remember? I'd be fucked if I was stopped."

Clay nodded. "The other day, when you said you wanted to help the club. You mean that?"

"Of course."

"Then we got a job for you."

Jax interrupted. "No. This is fucking stupid. We don't send women to do our business."

Clay looked at Jax, then at V. He smiled. "No," he said, "we don't. But we're in a spot here, and I think V. would like to help us out. Wouldn't you sweetheart?" V. didn't mistake the tone in his voice for friendliness. She knew it for the order it was.

"Sure," she said. "What do you need me to do?"

Jax continued to look angry as Clay explained the job to V. Picking up the guns at the Army Surplus store in Oakland, riding north, dropping them at the border with the SOA chapter there. Didn't sound like anything she couldn't do.

"You can't ride alone," Jax said. "Those Russian fuckers are still after you."

"More likely to catch me here than on the road," V. said. "I'll do it."

After some more discussion, the group decided that Jax would ride with V. to pick up the guns, to vouch for her with the Irish. Then he'd come back to Charming and she'd go north. Since she'd have to carry all of the guns herself, a bedroll wouldn't work--she'd have to carry them in saddlebags. She'd take the Prospect's bike, since it didn't have any SOA decoration.

"Shouldn't be too hard," Bobby said. "300 miles. No reason for anybody to bother you.

"And even if you did get stopped," Chibs said, "they'd have no reason to search you. Pretty girl, nothing outstanding, registered bike. You can tell 'em it belongs to your boyfriend." At this, he chuckled.

V. nodded. "Yeah," she said. "I can do that."

After the details were worked out, the meeting closed. Walking out into the clubhouse, Jax grabbed V.'s arm and held her back.

"You don't have to do this."

"It's fine, Jax. I don't mind."

"I fucking mind."

V. looked at Jax. "What is this about?" she asked. "It's not big deal. You guys have heat on you, I don't."

Jax looked pissed, but didn't answer.

"This a pissing contest thing?" V. asked. "Something with you and Clay?"

"No. I..."Jax pursed his lips, still pissed. "I don't want you to get hurt. Or arrested."

V. smiled. "I appreciate that, Jax. But I can take care of myself. Been doin' it a long time." She smiled again, then walked away.

Chibs, who'd come back into the Chapel to grab his cigarettes and seen the end of the conversation, grinned at Jax.

"Lady not lettin' you protect her, Jacky-boy?"

Jax shook his head. "I don't get that bitch, man," he said. "She says she wants our help. But she don't want to let anybody help her."

"Don't think she knows how, brother." Chibs grabbed his smokes from the table. "Besides, she doesn't trust us." He smiled. "Not even you."

***

"Do you trust me?"

It was the night before the run. Jax grabbed V.'s hand and led her to her clubhouse room. He sat her down on the bed and sat down next to her. She could hear the other guys in the clubhouse, playing pool, drinking beer, laughing. And he asked if she trusted him.

She just looked at him. Finally, she smiled. "No."

"Could you trust me?"

She tilted her head, unsure of what he meant. "Is this about the run? I'm doing it, Jax. The Club asked me to do it and I'm doing it. Has nothing to do with trusting you."

"No, it's not about the run." He was quiet a moment. "It's about whether you and me are going anywhere with this. I'm not used to women like you. Women who won't let me take care of them." He thought of Tara, who, while very competent in her own profession, deferred to him automatically when anything dangerous happened. He knew how to handle that. Relished it, even. With V. he was at sea.

V. sighed. "And to think," she said, "I thought you just brought me in here to fuck."

Jax smiled. "I did." He paused. "But I don't know if you even trust me enough for that."

"Didn't seem to be a problem before."

Jax thought again about the night they'd spent together. Though she'd been insatiable and skilled, and he'd enjoyed the hell out of every minute of it, he couldn't say she'd been trusting. She'd kept the lights off, not letting him look at her the way he'd wanted to. He looked at her now. Her brow was still furrowed, trying to figure out what he wanted from her.

"Try to trust me this time?" he asked.

She smiled slowly, then reached for him. She'd been trying to keep from reaching for him since the night she'd spent at his house, and it had been getting harder. She was happy to have the opportunity now. He caught her hand.

"No," he said, his eyes laughing. "Answer the question. Will you try to trust me this time?"

Still not sure what he was getting at, but willing to play along, she nodded. "Yes. I'll try to trust you."

"Good." He got up and locked the door. "Take off your clothes. Let me look at you."

V. stared at him, then laughed. "Not like you haven't seen me naked, Jax."

He shook his head. "Not like I wanted to. You gonna trust me?"

"Sure." V. stood up. Still looking at Jax, she stripped off her t-shirt. Leaning down, she unlaced her boots and pulled them off. As she straightened up, she saw Jax smile. "Somethin' funny?"

"You." He grinned bigger. "You're hating this."

"No." She unhooked her bra and let it drop. "It's just a little silly." She unbuttoned her jeans, then slipped them off, stepping out of them. Without returning her gaze to Jax, she slipped her panties off and let them hit the floor as well. Naked, she met his gaze again.

He looked at her. His gaze was hungry, but he didn't move towards her. Instinctively, and without realizing it, she moved her arm to cover her scarred stomach.

Jax shook his head and moved towards her. "You have to trust me," he said. "No covering up." He grabbed V.'s wrists. "Do I need to tie you down?" V. shivered involuntarily. Jax smiled. "Maybe I do," he said. Smiling a bit wider, he dropped her wrists and unbuckled his belt, then pulled it out of his belt loops. V. met his eyes. "Can you trust me?" he asked.

V. nodded. As he moved her towards the bed, Jax could feel her excitement. His was building as well. "Lie down," he said.

V. didn't speak or take her eyes off him as she laid down on the bed. Silently, she offered him her wrists. Her heart was pounding. He pulled her arms above her head, wrapping the belt around both wrists, then around the bedpost. Smiling at her, he tightened it. _What the fuck am I doing?_ She tugged lightly. _I'd have a hard damn time getting out of this. _

"Trust me," said Jax softly. "Don't worry. I just want to look at you." He ran his hand along the side of V.'s face. She closed her eyes. He ran his fingers over her cheekbones, then her lips. _What a pretty face. _The bruise and cut from her attack was nearly healed. He studied her. Her face was scarred in several places, the most noticeable being a scar above her left eyebrow and another below her mouth. He ran his finger over the scar above her brow. "Where'd this come from?"

She didn't open her eyes. "Girl hit me when I wasn't looking. In juvie. I was a kid."

Jax ran his fingers over the scar under her lips. "What about this one? Same girl?"

V. smiled, but still didn't open her eyes. "No. Fell off the swings when I was four. Put my teeth through my lip."

Jax turned his attention to her arms, bound above her head. Her muscles were ropey just under her skin, flexed by her position. _She's so strong._ He ran his hands down her arms. She shivered under his touch. He ran his finger over the intricate design tattooed over her left shoulder, then along her collarbone. He leaned down, then, and kissed her throat. He inhaled her scent. That same sweet citrus smell, mixed with all the scents that smelled like home. He raised his head and looked again at her face. Her eyes were open, now. Clear, cool green, shining with some fear, some apprehension, but mostly desire. His eyes raked lower. Her chest was rising and falling quickly with her rapid breathe. _God, what great tits._ Her breathe caught as he ran his hands over them. He lightly tugged on both piercings. "When did you get these?"

V. didn't answer. Jax twisted a bit harder. She laughed and gasped. "OK, OK. I got 'em when I was about 21. Guy I was seeing asked me to do it."

Jax leaned over and took one pierced nipple in his mouth. "Good man," he said.

V. arched her back, squirming for more contact. Jax smiled, his face still in her cleavage. Knowingly, he rubbed his stubbly face against her nipple. It wasn't gentle. V. arched more dramatically, inhaling sharply.

After a moment, Jax lifted himself from her chest. Her breasts were reddened from his facial hair. Her hips were rocking slightly. "You are so beautiful," he said softly.

She smiled. "Thank you."

He smiled back, then ran his hands over her hips, then down her thighs. She was wider at the hip than most of the women he'd been with, her body very curvy. The muscles of her thighs, like those in her arms, were corded just under the skin. He stopped at a large scar running across her right knee, tracing it with his finger, then leaning over and tracing it with his tongue. "Where'd this come from?"

V.'s hips were lifting off the bed. Her whole body was tense. "Knocked over a bike," she said , her voice breathy. "Tore my knee open."

Jax moved his lips down from her knee, running his tongue over the tattoo that covered her inner calf. Feeling her strain against the restraint, trying to get closer to him, he smiled and sat up. He stood up and backed away from the bed.

"Don't you dare leave me here," V. said.

Jax shook his head. "Wouldn't think of it," he said. His eyes still on V., running up and down the length of her body, he shrugged out of his cut, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. V. watched him as he leaned over and unlaced his sneakers, kicking them off. When he unbuttoned his jeans and slid them, and his boxers, down his hips, her eyes widened.

Jax sat on the edge of the bed. He leaned over and kissed V.'s lips, softly. She tried to deepen the kiss, but he moved his head slightly away, so their lips were barely touching. Then he smiled and moved down her body. The muscles in her stomach weren't developed like those in the rest of her body--her stomach was flat, but soft. _From the surgery,_ he thought. _She doesn't have her muscle tone back_. He ran his finger down the scar bisecting her belly. As his finger moved lower, her hips strained towards it. He smiled. "Patience," he muttered. Then he leaned over, following the path of the scar with his tongue.

Without lifting his mouth, he moved his body between her legs, settling on his knees. He looked up at her and smiled. Her pupils were big with excitement. He ran his tongue down the end of the scar, then continued, licking a path directly between her legs. When his tongue touched her clitoris, she moaned, pushing her hips towards his mouth. He smiled into her, then nuzzled deeper.

As Jax licked her up and down, V. stopped struggling against the belt tying her hands. She didn't feel any pain, or any fear, only motion of his tongue and the exquisite pressure building inside her. She tilted her head back, moving her hips towards him. "God, Jax," she moaned. Sensing how close she was, he moved his mouth back to her clitoris, catching it between his lips and tugging gently, a mimic of the motion of his lips on her nipples. Her body lifted up from the bed and she shuddered, coming in complete silence.

Jax raised up onto his knees and looked at her. Any concerns she'd had about being tied up were gone. Her body was limp as washrag, her chest heaving, her eyes closed. Jax smiled. When she opened her eyes, he raised his eyebrows at her. "More?"

She nodded, still breathless. Without giving her time to catch her breathe, Jax grabbed both of her ankles and hoisted them against his shoulder. Having already waited a lot longer than he thought he could, he didn't hesitate a moment, just pushed inside her all at once. The tender slowness from earlier was gone. His body pounded into hers, each thrust harder than the last. The belt cut into V.'s wrists, but she didn't notice. Her whole body was on fire now; she could only feel him deeper and deeper inside her. She moaned when she came this time, and her moan sent him over the edge right behind her.

"Jesus Christ," V. panted, unable to catch her breathe. Jax smiled, crawling up the length of her body. He unwrapped her wrists, throwing the belt on the floor, then laid down beside her.

They were both quiet for a few minutes. Jax stroked V.'s hair, then kissed her face. Once again, he realized that he'd thought of nothing but her the entire time he'd been with her. She'd filled his senses. Smelling her, feeling her underneath him and around him, looking at her body, hearing her laughter and her moans, tasting her. His ghosts had been gone, even Tara.

He thought to tell her as much, looking down at where she'd laid her head against his chest, but didn't. She'd fallen asleep.


	10. Chapter 10

When Jax awoke, V. was already out of the shower. She stood in the center of the room, her back to him, naked, combing out her wet hair. Smiling to himself, Jax kept his breathing regular and watched her from lowered eyelids. Her long, wet hair covered most of her back, ending just above where her ribs narrowed to her waist. She leaned over, rummaging in her open knapsack, then stepped into panties. Cotton, boy short style. _Dressing for comfort for the long ride._ She grabbed her jeans from the floor and pulled them on, following with her bra. Then she turned around.

Jax opened his eyes. "Morning."

"Morning." V. smiled, looking at Jax stretched out in the bed, hair tousled and sleepy-eyed. _His little trust experiment last night seems to have worked,_ she thought. _I do feel more comfortable with him today._

"You ready for the ride?" he asked.

"Yeah." She pulled a tank top over her head, then looked at him. "You still against it?"

"Yeah, I am."

She pulled a flannel shirt over her tank top, then smiled. "Sorry."

He reached out and grabbed her, pulling her onto his lap. "No you're not."

"No, I'm not."

Jax studied V.'s hands. There were abrasions on her wrists from where the belt bit into her skin. "Listen," he said, "when you get there, those Oregon boys aren't going to understand who you are." V. tilted her head to face Jax, not sure what he was saying. He continued. "They're all gonna try to get with you. If you need to get them off your back," he paused, then spit the rest of the sentence out quickly, "you can tell 'em you belong to me."

V. was shocked and unsure what Jax was saying. Was he just offering her a way to keep the other bikers at bay, or was this something more? _Better to think about that when I get back,_ she decided. She smiled, "OK. Thanks." Then she got up off his lap. "You'd better get ready. You want coffee?"

***

Jax slammed around the garage. The Irish were skeptical of V., but trusted Jax, so the handover of the guns went fine. Outside the army surplus store, he'd kissed her hard before he let her get on the Prospect's bike. Then he'd turned around and come back to Charming, and he'd been pissed off since then.

"Fuck!" he spit, dropping an oil pan on the cement floor with a clatter, then kicking it out of frustration.

"You alright?" Opie lifted his head from the workbench where he was working on a transmission.

"Yeah." Jax scowled at the oil pan.

"This about V.?"

Jax looked at Opie.

Opie smiled. "Any doubt anybody had about that was taken care of last night, bro. You weren't quiet."

Jax smiled for a moment, the events of the night before replaying in his head.

Opie continued. "Makes you nervous, her being on this run?"

Jax nodded. "Yeah. Just seems wrong, you know? She shouldn't be doin' shit like this."

Opie thought about the conversation he'd had with V. the night she was attacked. "Don't think that's the way she thinks about it."

Jax nodded.

"V.," Opie said, wiping the grease from his hands. "She's not like the girls we know. Tara, Donna..." He trailed off, a look of pain crossing his face, then started again. "She's different."

Jax nodded again. Opie was right--V wasn't like the girls they knew. Wasn't anything like Tara, or Donna, or Wendy. She was different than any woman he'd ever met.

"So what is this, with you and her?" Opie asked.

Jax shook his head. "No idea, man." What he didn't tell Opie was that V. was all he was thinking about. He didn't say that he'd watched her sleep for a long time the night before, marveling at how good it felt to be with her. He didn't say that sex with her felt like something brand new, even to him. And what he didn't even say to himself was that the reason it made him so angry to watch her ride away was fear that she wouldn't come back.

**

It was late afternoon the next day when V. pulled back into the lot. Forcing himself to remain cool, Jax didn't go out to greet her, but waited inside the garage. The Prospect had no such limitations and ran right out.

"Told you I'd take care of your bike," V. laughed, taking off her helmet. "Not a scratch." To his surprise as much as anybody else's, she kissed his cheek. "Thanks for letting me take it."

V. walked into the garage. As they saw her, each Son hugged her or kissed her cheek or asked her how it went. "No problems at all," she replied. As she approached Jax, she smiled. "Told you I'd be fine." He shook his head, but hugged her tightly, then kissed her lips briefly.

V. pulled out of Jax's embrace. "I am fucking gross," she said. "Gotta shower. And, if possible, nap. I didn't sleep at all last night. Oregon boys kept me up." She grinned. "Oh, and Happy's right behind me. Fucker wouldn't let me ride back by myself." She turned and walked towards the clubhouse.

"Oregon boys kept her up?" Juice asked. "What does that mean?" He looked at Jax. Jax didn't reply, just turned his attention to Happy, who had just pulled into the lot.

After greeting his fellow Sons and grabbing a beer, Happy sat down on a bench in the garage. "Goddamn," he said. "Where did you find that girl?"

"She found us," Juice said. "Came into the garage with a broken down bike."

Happy shook his head. "Never seen anything like that, man."

"Like what?" Jax's voice was not completely friendly.

"Couldn't believe it when I heard you all were having a woman do your delivery. Thought somethin' had to be wrong. But then she showed up. Those Oregon boys were all on her tail. They're feeding her drinks and she's taking tequila shots like she knows what she's doing, and they're sniffin' at her, all tryin' to get a piece. Finally, one of them--newly patched guy, don't know him--tries to make a grab at her. She pulls that goddamn knife out of her boot and tells him to get his fucking hands off."

Jax snorted. Juice laughed aloud.

"Gets better," Happy continued. "Boys ask her whose old lady she is--figure with that much balls, she's gotta be connected. Honestly, she reminded me of Gemma. But she tells 'em that she doesn't belong to anybody but herself!"

Jax was silent. Happy went on. "Never seen a woman so sexy act so tough." He drank from his beer bottle. "I think I'm in love." He raised an eyebrow. "Or somethin'."

Jax didn't smile. Without a word, he walked away.

"What's that about?" Happy asked Juice and Chibs.

"Brother," Chibs said, "I think you may have stepped in it a bit there. Jackie-boy has his eye on that one."

"Not just his eye," said Juice. "From the sounds of it, he's hittin' her."

"She didn't mention that."

"Fuck," said Juice. "Did you get with her? Jax is going to flip the fuck out if you banged her."

Happy shook his head. "No. Was hoping that was on tonight's agenda. Passed out drunk last night."

"Wouldn't go there if I were you, bro," Chibs said. "Not a man here who wouldn't love some of that action, but the V.P. has made it pretty clear she's not up for grabs."

***

The post-Church party that evening was particularly raucous, and, having made the run successfully and made sure everybody got paid, V. was the guest of honor. She was enjoying it. After her discussion with the club on the day she was attacked, and making the run for them, she no longer felt as if she had to parade herself around. Instead, she could perch on a bar stool, not flash her tits, drink her fill, and laugh. It was good.

V. noticed that Jax wasn't getting anywhere near her, but was trying not to worry about it. His instruction to tell the Oregon SOA members that she was his had weighed on her mind since he'd said it. She had no idea what to make of it. She'd told herself she would ask him, but hadn't seen him alone since she returned to Charming._ Maybe I can lure him back into the bedroom,_ V. thought. _Wonder if somebody is staying with Abel tonight?_ Though she hated to be obvious, the idea was definitely appealing. She turned to scan the room.

Jax was on the couch, sitting close to a dark-haired woman V. recognized as a Crow Eater, his arm slung around her shoulders. V. felt a wave of jealousy pass through her. _None of that_, she thought. _You got not hold on Jax._ She thought again of Jax's telling her to tell the Oregon Sons she was his old lady. _Guess that was just him trying to be nice and save me some trouble._ _Why would I have thought anything else?_ She felt stupid. Time for another drink.

Jax had been watching V. from the corner of his eye all evening. She didn't seem particularly flirtatious, and she wasn't spending time specifically with Happy. He'd sat next to her at the bar for a bit, teasing her and drinking, but had then wandered off, and now seemed to be preoccupied with a blonde hang around. Still, she hadn't paid any attention to him, either. And she hadn't told the Oregon Sons she was with him, even after he'd told her to. This Jax found particularly insulting. Clearly it would have helped her to keep the guys off her back, but she hadn't done it. Did she not want to be with him? He tried to pay attention to the woman next to him, who was laughing and talking, but couldn't focus.

Though she tried not to, V. kept looking back at Jax and the woman on the couch. Her first instinct, embarrassingly enough, was to get with someone else. Everybody knew everything everybody else did around here, so it wasn't like Jax wouldn't know. But she knew that wouldn't be wise. She'd worked hard to get these guys to begin to respect her, and it would be easy to erase that by offering herself up as a sexual object. Besides, she knew she had no right to be pissed off. Jax wasn't her's. _Best just to drink, then,_ she thought. _I'm not too good to sleep alone._

"How you doin' baby?" Gemma sat next to V. at the bar. "Hittin' it pretty hard?" She nodded towards V.'s empty bottles and the shot glass she kept refilling.

"Nah, just takes a lot," V. said. "I'm good. You miss me in the office?"

"You know I did." Gemma smiled. Then, as was her way, she got right to her point. "Why are you sittin' here drinkin' by yourself watching that hangin' on Jax?" The Crow Eater was now in Jax's lap.

"I'm not watching anything, Gemma. What--or who--Jax does is Jax's business."

"Bullshit. Everybody here heard him makin' you scream the other night."

V. smiled, only slightly embarrassed. "Didn't know I had an audience. But so what?"

"So I know you now. And I know you aren't just slutting around. My kid may fuck everything with a pussy, but you ain't gonna be done like that."

V. shook her head. "I got no claims on Jax."

"Wake up girl," Gemma said. "You want a claim, make it."

As Gemma walked away, V. turned her attention back to Jax. The woman was gone, headed to the bathroom or to get a drink or something. _Can't hurt,_ she thought. She got up and walked towards the couch, sitting down next to Jax.

"Hey."

"Hey."

They looked at each other, neither of them speaking. _OK,_ V. thought, _I'll go first._

"Somethin' wrong?"

"No."

"You still mad I went on this run?"

"No."

"Then what?" V.'s patience was wearing thin. Before she'd come over, she thought maybe she was overreacting. Now it was clear that Jax really did have a problem with her.

Jax didn't know how he felt. He was insulted, angry. He wanted to ask V. why she hadn't told the Oregon chapter she was his, and even more to ask her if she'd been with Happy the night before. But he also wanted to skip asking her anything, pull her on to him, kiss her, and then take her to bed. It had always been easier to go that route, to fuck, rather than talk. Easier, felt better, less misunderstanding. _Yes, better not to bring it up._ He smiled at V. "I'm not mad at all, darlin'," he said, slipping his arm around her.

V. furrowed her brow at his sudden change in expression, but she, too, decided it was better not to force a conversation he didn't want to have. Instead, she moved a bit closer to him.

The dark-haired woman returned. She scowled at V. "You're in my seat."

V. looked up at her, surprised at her nerve. "No," she said. "I'm in my seat."

The dark-haired woman wouldn't back down. "I said move, bitch."

V. laughed. "I'm sorry," she smirked, "I don't think I heard you."

"I said you are in my seat, you fucking whore," said the dark-haired woman, loudly enough now that most of the room heard her.

"Oh shit," breathed Juice from across the room. "This is so not gonna be good."

V. stood up, her eyes blazing now. She faced the dark-haired woman squarely. "I gave you a chance to back the fuck off," she said. "And now I am giving you one more. Get the fuck out of my face."

The dark-haired woman sneered. "Or what, bitch?"

V. smiled. Immediately, her hand was at the dark-haired woman's throat. She didn't squeeze. "Or I knock your fucking teeth out of your mouth, you cock-sucking skank."

The dark-haired woman stepped back slightly. "Psycho bitch," she muttered.

"V.," Jax grabbed V.'s hand from where he was still sitting on the couch. "C'mon. You'll hurt her."

"That psycho bitch ain't gonna hurt me," said the dark-haired woman.

"Jesus, are you nuts?" Jax asked her.

V. took a step forward, getting close to the dark-haired woman's face again. "Listen to me very carefully honey," she said calmly. "A fight with me is not a fight you will win. You say one more fucking word, and I will hurt you. Get away from me, right now, and we'll forget this happened. This is your last fucking chance."

The dark-haired woman backed away. "Good girl." V. sat back down on the couch.

"Christ," Jax said softly. "You about had _me_ scared there."

V. sighed. "I am too fucking old to be playing whose dick is bigger with some teenager." She shook her head. "I oughta know better than that."

Jax smiled. _I kinda thought it was hot. _"Well," he said. "Your dick is definitely bigger."

V. laughed and leaned against his shoulder.

A few minutes later, Clay approached the couch. "Haven't had a chance to thank you," he said. "We appreciate you making this run for us."

"It was really no problem."

"That mean you'd do it again?"

Jax's arm tensed around V. "This was a one time thing," he said.

"It's alright," V. said. "I could do it again."

"Our deal is for runs every two weeks," Clay said. "We'll be able to take 'em back eventually, but it would probably be safer for you to do it for a while."

"Sure," V. said. "I'm happy to help. Besides, it was fun."

Clay smiled and walked away.

"You do not need to make the run again," Jax said.

"I don't mind doing it." V. replied. "It was a good time."

_A good time?_ Jax thought. _What the fuck does that mean?_

"Besides," V. continued. "I like being able to do something to help the club. Makes me feel better about still being here."

Jax scowled.

"Why is this such a big deal?" V. asked. "Why do you even care?"

Jax was silent. He couldn't tell her that he hated watching her leave because he wasn't sure she'd return. Finally, he said, "It's just not right to have a woman doing our business."

V. smirked. "It's a few hours on a bike, Jax. It's not like Clay is asking me to take somebody out."

Jax shook his head. "You just don't fucking get it," he said. He pulled his arm from V.'s shoulders. "Or maybe you just think it's such a good time you don't care."

V. looked confused. _Care about what?_ She'd had fun on the run, riding, drinking with the Oregon guys. Why would that be a problem for Jax?

"I gotta go," Jax said, standing up. V. watched him stomp out of the clubhouse.

"What's Jacky boy off about?" Chibs asked, sitting down next to V.

"No fucking idea," she replied. "He's pissed off Clay asked me to go on another run, I guess?"

"Ah," said Chibs. "Still tryin' to get you to let him protect you, is he?"

V. turned to him. "Protect me? From what?"

"Don't know, darlin'. But he don't know what to do with you otherwise."

V. thought about that for a moment. Could that be the problem? Jax didn't know how to interact with a woman who didn't need his protection? _I do need his protection_, she thought. _I need all these guys' protection. Leo may not be here today, but he's coming._

"You want my advice?" Chibs asked. V. nodded. Chibs smiled. "At least let him think you need him.


	11. Chapter 11

Jax kicked the gravel as he strode across the parking lot towards his bike. As he kicked his leg over the bike, the dark-haired woman from earlier ran up to him.

"Hey Jax," she said. "Wanna give me a ride home?"

Jax looked at her. She was pretty, skinny and young. She was smiling hopefully at him. He knew exactly how it would go with her. She'd get on the bike, wrap her arms around him, not try to hold herself away from him. He'd take her home and she'd let him do whatever he wanted; she'd do whatever he wanted. Then, he'd leave, and it would be like nothing had ever happened. He wouldn't even need to wait until morning if he didn't want to. There would be no expectations, no insistence on respect, no argument.

She wasn't what he wanted. He didn't have any illusions about that. But Jax had spent years sleeping with women who were not the woman he wanted. It wasn't always the worst way to go.

"Sure sweetheart," he said. "Hop on."

***

V. woke up screaming. The dream was the same as always--the knife, the leering face, the smell of tar. This time, though, she heard the baby crying. She sat up in bed, her arms wrapped around herself, sobbing.

"V.? Are you OK?" Chibs came in without knocking. "Who's here?" He was wearing only jeans, the top button undone. His gun was drawn.

V. tried to control her sobs, but could only stammer. "I'm fine. I'm sorry. Nightmare."

Chibs flipped on the light, lowered the gun, then crossed the room and stood next to the bed. "Jesus. That was some fuckin' scream. Thought you were bein' attacked."

V. was still crying, unable to quiet herself. "No," she said. "I'm OK."

"Don't look OK, love," Chibs said. He reached down and touched her shoulder. When her sobbing didn't cease, he sat down next to her, then put his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. "Shh. It's OK. Shh" he repeated, stroking her hair.

Slowly, V. calmed down. Her sobs slowed, then stopped. Finally, she pulled away from Chibs.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This is really embarrassing."

"None of it," he replied, reaching out again and smoothing her hair off her tear-swollen face. She realized, then, how close he was. His shirtless chest was warm, and she was so cold.

He looked at her. Her face was red and blotchy from her tears, her hair tangled. She wasn't wearing a bra under her tank top, and her nipples stood out, the piercings clear through the thin fabric. _Not a smart idea,_ he chided himself. _You know better than this._ Still, she was so close, and looked, just now, so lost.

"Should I stay, then?" he asked, reaching out again and running his finger along her lips.

V.'s heart sped up. She wanted him to stay. Wanted to be held, to be kissed, to be touched, to not have to go back to sleep alone. It would be so easy, just to nod, to let him keep going. She could feel herself doing it, pulling the finger on her lips into her mouth, then letting it trail down her chin, her throat, between her breasts. So easy just to lie back and let him take her. But she knew she'd regret it in the morning.

"I'm sorry," she said, still sniffling slightly. "No."

Chibs smiled. "Was worth a try." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Will you be OK now?"

V. nodded. "Thank you."

Chibs got up and walked towards the door, then turned, unable to resist another try. "You sure you don't want me to stay?"

V. smiled. "I do," she said. "But I don't think that's a good idea. For either of us."

Chibs nodded. "Right you are," he said. "Goodnight, V."

***

"God dammit V., where are the repos?"

V. looked up from the column of numbers she was adding, losing her place for the third time. Gemma was standing at the office door, hand on her hip. "Oh, sorry," she said, jumping out of her chair and grabbing the repo list from the fax machine. She'd noticed it was there hours earlier, then forgotten about it completely. "I'll take it out to Opie."

Gemma shook her head. "Where is your brain? They should have started on those hours ago."

"Sorry." V. ducked out of the office, hoping that by the time she found Opie and returned, Gemma would be on to something else. No such luck; when she returned, Gemma was still there, looking at the invoice on which V. had been working.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Gemma asked. "You've got two decimals in the wrong place here. This added up for you?"

"No," V. said, embarrassed. "I've been trying to make it add up for the last fucking hour."

Gemma shook her head. "Sit."

V. slumped into the room's only other chair.

"What is going on with you? Is this about Jax?"

"Nothing, and no, it's not about Jax." V. sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm just having an off day."

Gemma frowned. She'd noticed that Jax and V. had been avoiding each other for the past few days. _Has to be about that_, she thought. _This girl doesn't just have an off day. Hasn't had one since she's been here, and she's seen some shit._

"Bullshit," said Gemma finally. "There's something on your mind. What is it?"

V. sighed again. _She's not going to give up until you give her something,_ she thought. _Nosy bitch._ She looked at Gemma. She was still a nice looking woman, but her face was so hard, so cold. _I could be that so easily._ _I might be that already._

Finally, V. spoke. "It's my due date."

Gemma closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded. She thought of Tommy, the son she'd lost. She thought of the abortion she'd had when Jax and Tommy were small, when things with the Club were tenuous and having another child didn't seem possible. Then she thought of Jax, and of what it would feel like to lose him. "That must be hard."

V. nodded. "I didn't realize it would be." She tipped back her head, afraid for a moment that she would cry. "I never wanted a kid, you know? I am not cut out to be somebody's mother." She smiled bitterly. "Always fighting, getting arrested, getting high." She shook her head. "But then I got pregnant, and even though I was trapped in hell, and I hated the man who did it, something changed. All of a sudden, all I wanted was for the baby inside me to be alright."

"That's bein' somebody's mother," Gemma said. "The only thing matters to you is that your baby is OK."

The two women were both silent. Gemma thought about Abel's birth, how much it, and the time afterward when they didn't know if he would live, had changed Jax. She thought of weak, drug-addled Wendy, the guilt she carried. V. wasn't like Wendy.

"It's not your fault." Gemma got up, crossing the room and kneeling in front of where V. was sitting. "You tried to protect your baby."

V. looked at Gemma, her hard face, her scarred chest. _You'd have protected your son,_ she thought. _You'd have found a way._ She didn't say anything.

Gemma grabbed V.'s face in her hands, forcing her to meet her gaze. "You didn't do this," she said. "They did this. You need to hate, you hate them."

V. nodded, biting back her tears. "Yeah," she said. She didn't sound convinced.

Gemma got up, returning to the desk chair. After she sat down, she turned back to V. "Take the rest of the day off," she said. "I can handle this. Go shopping, take a ride, whatever. Get out of here."

From inside the garage, Jax watched V. as she walked across the parking lot. Her head was bent, her shoulders hunched, her hands jammed in her pockets.

"Where the hell is she going?" he muttered to himself. "Does she not fucking remember what happened the last time she decided to walk around by herself?" He considered going after her, but decided against it. _Leave her be, _he thought._ She obviously doesn't want you to protect her._ He was turning back to the piece he was welding just as Gemma approached him.

"Hey mom."

"You see V. leave?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"Why aren't you going after her?"

Jax looked at his mother. "Why would I go after her?"

"Because a bunch of fucking Russian thugs want to cut her into pieces and she's too stupid to stay put." Gemma shook her head. _Unbelievable, my kid. Do I have to explain every move to him?_ "She's goin' through some shit, too," Gemma added. "Probably shouldn't be alone."

Jax narrowed his eyes. What was his mother trying to pull? He knew from experience that Gemma was not above meddling in his love life, but last he checked, V. wasn't Gemma's ideal girl for him. _Christ_, he thought. _That woman has so many agendas I can't keep them straight._

"Alright," Jax said, finally. He pulled off his welding mask and work gloves. "I'll go after her." He shrugged out of his mechanic's shirt and grabbed his cut.

"Good," said Gemma, watching her son walk across the parking lot towards his motorcycle. The more she saw of V., the more Gemma thought she might be exactly the thing Jax needed. If Jax was going to take over the club, he would need a woman like Gemma by his side--smart, loyal, strong. Wendy was never strong enough or smart enough to be that woman. Tara, though she was smart enough, was never loyal. V. was smart, though, and so tough herself that nothing the club did could phase her. She missed her own family so much she'd be completely loyal to his, with no chance of any competition for that loyalty. _Yes,_ Gemma thought, watching Jax mount his bike and take off. _V. could be just perfect._

It didn't take Jax long to catch up with V. She was walking the same way she had been when she left, her head bowed, her hands jammed into the pockets of her jeans. He saw her shoulders tense as he came up behind her.

"It's OK, it's me," he said, pulling up next to her. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Walking." She tried not to look at him, but he saw enough of her face to see she'd been crying.

"You shouldn't walk around by yourself right now," he said. "Dangerous."

"Yeah." She offered no explanation.

"Is this where you tell me that you don't need my fucking help and you can take care of yourself?" Jax asked. "Or can I give you a ride?"

V. smiled slightly. She thought of Chibs' advice, that she should let Jax take care of her. "You busy?" she finally asked.

"No. I got time."

"Can you take me somewhere?" She looked at him fully then, letting him see her wet eyes and puffy face. "Anywhere."

He nodded, then handed her his spare helmet.

***

V. spread out on the grass on her back, looking up at the branches of the tree above her. She had no idea where they were--somewhere near where they had stopped by the side of the road that time, maybe? Jax hadn't said, and she hadn't asked. He lay next to her, not saying a word, looking up at the branches and the sky. He wanted to reach out for her, to touch her, but he resisted. _You have to wait for her,_ he thought. _Let her come to you._

Finally, V. spoke. "My baby should have been born today."

Jax turned his head. She was still flat on her back, starting up at the sky. Her voice seemed strangely monotone. She wasn't crying. She continued. "Of all the fucking things. Today, I would have been somebody's mother." She paused. Jax continued to watch her face with a turned head. Her expression didn't change. "Fuckers made sure that will never happen. Probably did everybody a favor. I'd be a terrible mother."

Jax sat up, looking down at her. "Bullshit. You'd be a great mom."

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'd be a prize. Always with somebody after me, always with the wrong guy, always drinking and fighting and getting in trouble. Real good example." She exhaled. "Doesn't matter anyway. Never gonna happen."

"They're sure about that? You can't have more kids?"

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," he said, feeling how lame it sounded as it came out of his mouth. Then they were both quiet. Jax was thinking of Abel, and of how he'd felt when he didn't think his son would live. There was nothing anybody could say to him that would have helped then. And he could think of nothing to say to V. now.

"What's Abel's mom like?" V.'s voice brought Jax out of his thoughts.

"Wendy? She's...a mess. She's a junkie. She's clean now, I think, but I doubt she'll stay that way."

"It's good that he has you, then. And Gemma."

"Yeah." Jax thought of Tara, then, and how close she'd been to his son. She would have loved to have been his mother. Jax thought, sometimes, that it was only because of Abel that Tara had tried as hard as she had to make things with him work.

"Do you still love her?" The question seemed to come from nowhere. V. wasn't looking at Jax, but still at the sky.

"Wendy? No." Jax was quiet, thinking about what to say, then continued. "I don't think I ever did. She loved me, though."

V. nodded. "But you loved the doctor?"

Jax smiled. "Yeah. I loved the doctor."

V. was quiet. _No more questions,_ she thought. _He still loves the doctor. No reason to make him tell you that._

"What about you?" Jax asked. "You ever been in love?" He wished she would look at him, but she was still focused on the sky beyond the tree's branches.

V. laughed softly. "Will you believe me if I say no?"

"Never?"

"Never. Most of the guys I've been with I didn't even like very much." She paused, considering, then continued, finally turning her eyes towards him. "I suck at being a girlfriend, Jax."

He met her gaze. _Now is as good a time as any,_ he thought. "That why you didn't tell the Oregon boys you were with me?"

V. looked surprised. "Yeah," she said. Very slowly, she added "I've spent my whole life fighting for myself. Nobody's ever done it for me. I don't know to change that now. And I'm not even sure I want to."

Jax nodded. He understood the need to fight your own battles. Looking at her, though, and thinking about what she'd said, she could use some help. "Are you willing to try it?" he asked, finally. "I can't promise I won't fuck up--I will. But I want to help you. And I want to be with you."

V.'s eyes were scared, more scared than they had been since he'd first met her. He remembered her that day, wrapped in her sheet, bruised, terrified. It seemed longer ago than it had really been. She hadn't looked at him that day. Today, she looked at him. "Yeah," she said. "Yeah. I'm willing to try to it."

He smiled, then, finally, leaned down and kissed her, softly at first, then harder. Just as he was lowering his body down to lie next to her's, his phone rang.

"Fuck." He sat up, digging into his pocket. "Yeah?"

"You gotta get back here brother," said Chibs' voice on the other end of the line. "We got trouble."


	12. Chapter 12

When Jax and V. pulled up to Teller-Morrow, Chief Unser and Deputy Chief Hale were standing in the lot, talking to Clay, Chibs, and Tig. After Chibs' call had warned them of the police officers' presence, V. insisted on coming back to meet them. Her promise to get there quickly kept Hale from executing the warrant he had to search the clubhouse and garage for her or signs of her.

As she climbed off the bike, V. realized she had another problem. She tried to make eye contact with Jax, but he was several steps ahead of her, already yelling at Hale and Unser. Seeing her, Hale turned his attention to her.

"Victoria Elizabeth Kaplan?" Hale asked V.

"Yes." She barely looked at him, moving steadily closer to Tig, who was the closest Son to where she was standing. She looked at him, hoping he could read her expression.

"We need you to come in and answer some questions. You can come on your own now, or you can come after we find probable cause and whatever else we can find in the clubhouse."

He went on in the same vein, but V. barely heard him. She knew she was going to go, so nothing he was saying made any difference. She concentrated on getting closer to Tig. Finally, she backed right into Tig, rubbing against him suggestively. Tig smiled, putting his arms around her and leaning in to whisper in her ear. Jax opened his mouth, completely unable to believe what he was seeing. She looked at him again, hoping he would understand, and allowed Hale to lead her to Unser's waiting car.

As soon as the car pulled out of the lot, Jax was on Tig. "What the fuck was that?"

Tig smiled. "Girl is smart, gotta give her that." From the front of his cut, he pulled a Beretta. "She was carrying. Rubbed up against me so I could grab the gun. Almost didn't get it myself, but she had it a back holster and I could feel it." He turned the gun over in his hand. "No serial."

Jax shook his head slowly. _Christ, she is smart._ _And cool. Being taken in for questioning and she thinks to ditch the gun._ "That's the closest you ever get to her," he said, finally.

Tig laughed, but said nothing.

"What did Unser say?" Jax asked Clay.

"Doesn't know anything," Clay answered. "Said Hale got curious about the guy V. knifed not remembering anything about getting gutted and started digging around. Must have led him to V."

Jax nodded. His stomach was sick. Getting arrested himself had never bothered him all that much, as it never resulted in anything other than an inconvenience. V. getting taken in, though, even if it was just for questioning, worried him.

"Don't worry about it brother," said Chibs, noticing Jax's face. "She can handle herself. This isn't Miss V.'s first go round."

It was true. Jax had seen V.'s arrest record himself. He knew she had dealt with cops before, and couldn't imagine Unser and Hale were anything she couldn't manage. Still, he didn't like it. "Unser knows she's a friend of Sam Crow?" he asked.

Clay chuckled. "Well, he saw you bring her in on the bike, and he saw her rub up on Tig, so I expect he knows she's somebody's friend." He turned around to head back to the garage. "C'mon. He'll let us know if anything goes down. Probably, they'll ask her some questions, she won't talk, and they'll cut her loose."

***

In the interrogation room of the Charming Police Station, Deputy Chief Hale was getting nowhere. V. sat across the table from him, silent and scowling. He explained that he'd found her name and rap sheet when searching for information about the man who was mysteriously stabbed in the stomach and was still at St. Thomas. They were both listed as suspected associates of a suspected criminal organization in Texas. Given this connection, and the fact that they'd both shown up in Charming only recently, he thought perhaps she could tell him something about the stabbing.

When Hale finished, he looked expectantly at V. She stared right back at him and said nothing. He waited. She still said nothing. He sighed. "OK," he said. "Let's try this one step at a time. Why are you in Charming?"

V. stared at him and said nothing.

Hale tried again. "Have you ever lived in Texas?"

V. continued to stare.

Hale's face began to redden. "Do you know a man named Percy Tovarich?"

V.'s expression didn't change. She said nothing.

"How are you associated with the Sons of Anarchy?"

Nothing.

"Goddammit," Hale's voice began to rise. "You think it's cute just to sit here and smirk? Have your biker boyfriends stab some old flame for you? You think you're invincible?"

V. smiled slightly, but said nothing.

Hale calmed a bit and decided to try another approach. "Look," he said, "I don't know where you came from, or what your issues are. But you have taken up with the wrong people. They won't help you. They'll use you and throw you out. I can help you."

V.'s eyes narrowed, but she remained quiet.

Hale looked at her. She looked tough, but she was pretty, too. There was something fragile about her, underneath all that hardness. He leaned towards here. "Bad things happen to women who hang around Sam Crow," he said. "If you need someone to protect you, we can do that. Who do you need protection from?"

Finally, V. spoke. Her voice was low and mean. "If you are charging me with something, put me in a cell. Otherwise, cut me the fuck loose, you sanctimonious prick."

Hale shook his head. "You're in way over your head," he said. "I'd hate to see you get hurt."

V. rolled her eyes and returned to silence. Realizing he was getting nowhere, Hale stomped out of the room.

At the clubhouse, Tig's phone rang. He spoke briefly, chuckled, then hung up.

"Hale's keeping V. overnight," he said. "Person of interest. Unser said he's got nothing, but she pissed him off so he's holding her."

A round of chuckles and smiles went around the room. "Guess she declined to be strip searched," Juice said.

"Bet Hale was just pissed off because she flashed her tits at him and then wouldn't give him any," Half-Sack retorted.

Instantly, Jax was right in front of Half-Sack. "Now on, you watch what you say about V."

Half-Sack stepped back, alarmed. "Sorry." He looked a bit confused.

Chibs and Bobby exchanged a look, then a sly grin spread across Bobby's face. "How about me, V.P.?" he asked. "Am I allowed to talk about V.?"

Jax turned to look at him, anger fading to amusement when he saw the grin on Bobby's face. "You don't say shit either, you dirty old lech."

"V.'s with you now, then?"

Jax smiled. He tried to hide it, but he was pleased with himself. He hadn't been at all sure V. would agree to even attempting a relationship with him. "Yeah."

"Good." Bobby nodded.

In the holding cell, V. ran her fingers through her hair. This was not her first night in jail. She knew, from the tone of her interaction with Hale, that she wasn't being considered for any actual crime. The man she'd stabbed would never give her up--that would only make her safe from his boss. So this was just a pain in the ass, not an actual concern. _If nothing else, I won't get killed tonight,_ she thought darkly.

Kicking off the questionable blanket, V. laid back on the cot and looked at the ceiling. What a strange time. She tried not to think about anything that took place before she got to Charming. Best just to let all that fade away. Instead, she thought about this new life. The garage, the club, and Jax. Jax. She closed her eyes.

Just as V. was drifting into sleep, she heard the cell door open. She sat up, pulling her knees to her chest. It was the old cop, Unser.

"I already told your deputy I got nothin' to say," V. said, her eyes narrowing.

"I know that," Unser answered. "Just wanted to see if you were alright in here."

"I'm fine."

Unser sat down on the end of the cot. "So you're a real hardass, huh?"

V. pursed her lips and didn't respond.

Unser laughed. "Alright, you don't talk. I'll talk."

V. raised her eyebrow, but didn't answer.

"From what Hale showed me, you came from a pretty bad lot in Texas. You've been in a lot of trouble. Makes sense you'd hook up with Sam Crow. They're the trouble here." He peered at V. "What you maybe don't know, though, is that there are some good men in that Club. Men who you'd be right to trust. But not all of them."

V.'s brow furrowed slightly. She still said nothing, but Unser could tell she was listening.

"Jax, he's a good man. He'll be a real good daddy."

V. smiled slightly.

"Tig, though," Unser continued. "Don't trust him. He's only loyal to Clay. And he..."Unser trailed off, then continued. "He's not kind to women."

V. met the old cop's eyes. His eyes seemed kind. She nodded.

"I know there's nothin' I can tell you that's gonna make you do anything different," Unser said. "But you seem like a nice girl. Things are bad for the Sons right now. And they're probably gonna get worse. Be careful you don't get caught in the crossfire." Unser thought of Donna, lying dead in the street, the victim of something that had nothing to do with her. He didn't want to see any other women hurt.

V. nodded again.

Unser chuckled. "Really don't say much, do you?" He got up from the cot. "Well, at least you listened."

After Unswer left, V. laid back on the cot, thinking about what he'd said. She thought of Jax's warning her not to trust Clay. She'd noticed what she'd taken to be generational divides in the ranks of Sam Crow, but perhaps there was more to it than that? She was still pondering what else could be going on when she fell asleep.

When V. walked out into the sun outside the police station, she was pleased to find Jax waiting for her on his bike. He smiled when he saw her, and as soon as she was close enough, he wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.

"Hi." She smiled.

"Hi." He looked at her closely. "You alright? They treat you OK?"

"Oh yeah. Not the first time I've spent the night in jail." She swung her leg over the bike, settling in the seat behind him. "They don't have anything, though. Just fishing."

"Good." Jax turned his head and kissed her quickly again, then started up the bike.

On the ride back to Teller-Morrow, Jax marveled at how good V. felt. She pushed right up against him, her arms tight around his waist. She didn't hold herself away from him. As he had the first day she was in town, Jax noticed the feeling of her strong legs and arms, and the pressure of her breasts against the back of his cut. For her part, V. was noticing the hard muscles of his stomach under her hands and the smell of his neck when she buried her face into him. By the time they pulled into the lot, they were both wondering if it would be possible to sneak back into the clubhouse rather than going to work.

They had no such luck. Everyone was standing around outside, anxious to see how V.'s night had gone.

"How was lock-up?" Clay asked. "Charming's finest treat you OK?"

"No problem," V. responded. "They got nothin' on me, though. I think this was about yankin' your chain more than yankin' mine."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Deputy Dog asked some questions about Texas and the guy I stabbed, but mostly, he wanted to talk about Sam Crow."

"Man, that guy never lets up," Juice said. "We've been real lo-pro lately. Nothing to bother him."

"Our existence bothers him," Clay responded. "What'd you tell him?"

"Not a word," V. said. "Didn't feel like talkin'."

Clay smiled. "Good girl."

"Why'd he keep you in the cage overnight?" Tig asked.

V. smirked. "He played it real concerned, told me he could protect me, that kinda shit. I wasn't playing. Pissed him off. Good cop turned to bad cop." She rolled her eyes. "Those dudes are all the same." She turned towards Tig. "Hey, can I have my gun back?"

Tig smiled, pulling the little Beretta out of his cut pocket. "Here. Nice trick, by the way. Really enjoyed that."

V. raised her eyebrow. "I bet you did. I stole this gun. I have no idea where it's been or what it's been used for. Didn't seem like a good plan to bring it with me."

"Jesus," Juice said. "Is there anything you don't steal?"

V. turned to look at him. "Things I don't need," she said coldly.

Juice nodded, backing away. "That's fair."

"Hey," said V., remembering something she wanted to ask, "the old cop, Unser. He a friend of the club?"

Jax nodded, then said "More like a business associate. Why? You talk to him?"

"Yeah, he came in and tried to talk to me, but it was weird. He wasn't, like, questioning me. I think he just wanted to chat."

Jax smirked. "Typical Unser."

"It was pretty funny, actually," V. said. "He wanted to tell me what a stand up guy you are."

Jax smiled, putting his arm around V. and kissing her quickly. "He's right. You should listen to him."

Gemma walked out of the office, intending to yell at everyone to get to work. Seeing Jax and V. together, smiling at one another, she felt twinges of both satisfaction and concern. She'd seen that look on Jax's face before, and that had ended poorly not once, but twice. V. wasn't Tara, though. Maybe this time he'd stay happy for a while.

Seeing Gemma, V. broke away from Jax. "I think I should go to work," she said. "Maybe if I'm real nice to your slave driving mom she'll let me shower and change first." She walked towards the clubhouse.

After V. went inside, the Sons started to drift towards the clubhouse and the garage. Gemma took the opportunity to beckon Jax into the office with her.

"She alright?" Gemma said, lighting a cigarette. "She was pretty messed up yesterday. Jail probably didn't help."

"Yeah," said Jax. "She's alright." He paused, then asked, "Did she tell you why she was so upset?"

Gemma nodded. "That's some shit she's dealing with."

"Yeah."

"And she can't have any more?"

Jax shook his head. "She said they're sure."

"How's that sit with you?"

Jax looked at his mother, surprised. "What do you mean?"

"You and V. are together now, right?"

"Yeah."

"How are you with being with a woman who can't have babies?"

Jax hadn't really considered how he felt about that. His relationship with V. was new, as was fatherhood. More children were the last thing on his mind. "I have a kid," he said, finally.

"And your kid needs a mom."

Jax again looked at Gemma with surprise in his face. "Me and V., we're just getting started," he said. "She's no signing up to be anybody's mom."

Gemma smiled. "Maybe," she said. "Anyway, I like her."

Jax laughed. "That may be the first time I've ever heard you say that."

"Getting soft in my old age," Gemma said. Jax kissed her cheek and headed out to the garage.

The day seemed to drag both in the office and in the garage. Neither of them would have admitted it if they'd been asked, but V. spent much of the day finding excuses to go outside, while Jax found excuses to go inside. They said very little to each other, but the looks they exchanged were not lost on anyone.

Finally, Clay yelled at Jax. "Goddammit, take that girl out of here before I trip over her again!"

For once, Jax didn't argue. He just went into the office and grabbed V.'s hand, pulling her into the parking lot and towards his bike.

"Where are we going?" she said, laughing.

"Anywhere you want, baby." He smiled widely at her as he threw his leg over his bike. "Come on."

V. smiled back and climbed on the bike behind Jax. He grabbed her hands, pulling them tightly around him. Once she was on, he pulled out of the lot. Grinning into his hair, she moved one hand down from his waist to rest over the zipper of his jeans. "Mmm..." he made a low noise in his throat and stepped on the gas.

Before long, they were back in the woods, just where they'd been the day before. Jax laid the bedroll from the back of his bike down on the grass, sat down on it, then pulled V. down on to him. "C'mere darlin'," he said.

V. straddled Jax's lap. He kissed her, wrapping his arms around her and running his hands up and down her back. They kissed for a long time, V. grinding slightly against Jax's lap, his hands inside her t-shirt. Finally, he pulled away, then peeled the t-shirt off. "You have great tits."

"Thanks." She pushed his cut off his shoulders, then his gun holster. He kissed down her throat, then buried his face between her breasts. She arched her back and rubbed against him harder as he bit lightly at her cleavage.

Jax stopped, realizing her gun holster was still on. He laughed, slipping it off her. "Might be kinda hot if you leave it on" he said. "Long as you take everything else off."

V. laughed. "You first," she said.

Jax raised his eyebrow. "OK." He kicked off his sneakers, then pulled his t-shirt over his head. She climbed off his lap, watching while he stripped out of his pants and boxers. Then he sat back.

V. grinned. Leaning forward on her knees, she kissed his lips, then moved her lips down his chest, kissing down his chest. She ran her fingers down his stomach, then licked down the mid-line, flicking her tongue carelessly over his belly button and continuing to where his hair began. His stomach moved up and down quickly, his breathing excited. She looked up at him. He was watching her, his eyes half-closed. His hands were at his sides. V. reached forward, picking up his hands and putting them in her hair.

"Show me what you want," she said.

"I think you know." His voice was husky,

She smiled. "I do. But you drive." She lowered her head then, and he tightened his grip in her hair when he felt her mouth wrap around him. Her denim-clad ass was in the air now, and her tongue moved quickly. The first time they'd slept together, she'd put him in her mouth, but only in a brief, teasing way. She was clearly serious now. He tangled his hands deeper into her hair, moving her head. She responded almost immediately to every suggestion his hands made, increasing or decreasing her pace, changing her angle, and finally taking him all the way down her throat. He groaned, then tried to pull her head back, knowing he was going to come. She shook him off, swallowing him again and letting him come in her mouth.

Jax laid back, lightheaded and amazed. "Goddamn," he said, sounding a bit dazed.

While Jax recovered, V. stripped her clothes off. He watched her, his eyes still blissfully half-closed. Then she examined Jax's body. She stopped at an odd-shaped scar on his thigh. "Where'd this come from?"

"Got stabbed with a pair of scissors."

"What, did you piss off a barber?"

"No." Jax was quiet a minute, then decided the truth wouldn't hurt. Or at least some part of it. "Tara, the doctor? She had an ex-boyfriend who was stalking her. Real creepy fuck. We got into a fight at Floyd's barber shop and he stabbed me with the scissors."

V. peered down at Jax. The half-closed bliss was gone from his eyes. "What happened to him?"

Jax paused for a second. "He skipped town. Disappeared."

V. furrowed her brow. Something was wrong with that answer. Something in his eyes looked haunted. She thought of letting it go, but then thought that maybe it was more important, now, to try to be honest. "Did she kill him, or did you?"

Jax met V.'s gaze. Until that moment, nobody but he and Tara knew about what happened to Kohn. But before he could second-guess it, he was telling her.


	13. Chapter 13

Once Jax started talking, things just kept coming out. He and V. both re-dressed as he spoke. If either of them was sorry to have interrupted a good time for a sad one, neither said it aloud. Jax told V. about Tara's return to Charming, Kohn's following her, and, eventually, Tara's shooting Kohn and his finishing the job. He didn't know until the words were out of his mouth that he was going to tell her the whole story. It was a story he hadn't thought he'd ever tell anyone. She reacted in just the way he would have expected. No judgment, just understanding. In her eyes, they'd simply done what had to be done. None of Tara's guilt would make sense to her.

"Is that why Tara left?" She wasn't at all sure she wanted to go down this road, but felt like since they were finally talking, she'd better take the opportunity.

"No," Jax replied. "Tara..." he sighed, then began again. "Tara didn't want this life. She loved me, but she hated the rest of it. Hated the club."

V. nodded. It was clear in Jax's voice that he still hurt. Tara's leaving wasn't something he was over. It would be hard, V. knew, not to resent that. But she was going to try. Still, there was something they needed to get straight right away. "You know I'd be the worst possible rebound girl, right?"

Jax laughed. "Yeah." He reached out and pulled her towards him, settling her between his legs. "After Tara left the first time," he said, "I had ten years of rebound girls. I even married one. But I was always waiting for her to come back. Then she did, and we made the same mistakes all over again. I'm not waiting for her to come back now." He wrapped his arms around her. "This is about you." He kissed the side of her face, then trailed his lips down her neck.

V. squirmed slightly, then turned her face towards Jax. "So the police chief," she said. "He told me that this was a bad time, a dangerous time, for Sam Crow. Told me to be careful not to get caught in the crossfire. What does that mean?"

Jax closed his eyes for a moment. Behind his lids, he saw Donna, the shot out window of the truck, Opie kneeling over his wife and sobbing. He wanted to tell V. about it, to tell her that he knew Clay had ordered Opie's death and that Donna had, indeed, been caught in the crossfire. But he couldn't do it. He still had no real idea how to handle knowing it himself, and he didn't know where knowing was eventually going to take him and the club. Every person who knew made it harder to take the time to figure those things out.

V. looked at Jax. She could see the question was a more difficult one than she'd expected. "It's OK," she said softly. "You don't have to explain."

He looked surprised. He'd figured V. for the type who would insist on the truth. "You are not going to get caught in any crossfire," he said. "I won't let that happen."

"I know." V. smiled up at Jax.

He ran his finger along her jaw. "You're really beautiful, you know."

She laughed. "Don't change the subject, Teller. I'm letting you off now, but you know I'm going to keep asking questions, right? Nothing you do, nothing the Club does, is gonna be more than I can handle."

He nodded. He wasn't sure what she was saying was true, but he wasn't going to argue with her. If there was any woman who wouldn't be bothered by the violence of the club, it was this one. He kissed her. "Come home with me tonight?"

V. went home with Jax that night, and the next, and the following ones. Though they both worried that they were spending too much time together, ignoring other responsibilities, and not paying as much attention as they should to the danger that was just around the corner, neither of them could resist. Both Jax and V. had been around long enough to know that you have to grab your chance at being happy while it's in front of you, because shit always comes back around.

V. was sitting on the clubhouse couch, chatting with Half-Sack, when Church ended on Friday. Looking up, she saw first Jax's angry face, then Clay's. The other club members looked worried. Both Jax and Clay stomped over to her position on the couch.

"V.," Jax said, "tell Clay you don't want to do any more gun runs."

V. furrowed her brow. She thought she had made her willingness to do the runs clear last time she went.

"You already said you didn't mind doing more runs," Clay said. "The V.P. here seems to think you've changed your mind."

V. looked at Jax. "Why do you think that? I've got no problem making the trip."

Clay smiled. "See? No problem." He started to walk away.

"No," Jax said, his voice getting lower and colder. "You are not going on any more gun runs."

V.'s expression turned incredulous. "I'm not?"

"No, you're not."

V. stood up and met Jax's eyes. "And since when do you make my decisions for me?"

Now Jax looked incredulously at V. The rest of the Sons had all filed out of the Chapel and were watching. He grabbed her wrist. "Listen to me. I don't want you doing this. You're with me now. You don't have to prove yourself by going on some fucking run."

V.'s eyes shone with increasing rage. "You do not tell me what to do." She turned to Clay. "I'll make the run."

Clay smiled. "Good."

V. turned back to Jax. "Calm the fuck down."

Jax's grip on her wrist tightened. "Come on," he said through gritted teeth, pulling V. towards the hall.

"Let go of me you son of a bitch." V. hissed, attempting to pull her arm away. Jax held on, twisting her wrist painfully and pushing her towards her room.

"Why are you fucking humiliating me?" Jax hissed, pushing the door closed.

"Me humiliating you?" V. pulled her arm harder now, jerking away from Jax's grasp. "What about you treating me like a fucking child?"

Jax pushed V. against the back of the door. He stood very close to her, his face enraged. "I am not treating you like a child. I am treating you like my old lady."

"Like your old lady? Being your old lady means you tell me what to do?" V. was just as pissed as Jax. "I fucking told you, I'm not one of your stupid little whores. You don't run me."

Jax's fist hit the door just to the left of V.'s head. "Goddammit! You just don't fucking get it, do you? I'm trying to keep you safe."

"You're not trying to keep me safe! You're trying to control me!"

Jax's other hand came down to the right of V.'s head and he leaned forward, his face just inches from her's. Rage twisted his mouth. "Somebody needs to control you," he spit.

V. lowered her voice. "Is that what you want?" she hissed. "You want to control me?"

For a moment, they were both quiet, staring at each other. The tension between them seemed to fill the air, making the room heavy. They were both angry, both violent. There was something else, though. Something underlying between them beyond their anger.

Finally, V. spoke again. Her voice stayed low, her face stayed where it was. "I know you're used to women doing what you say. It's not going to be that easy with me. I think you already know that. You want to control me, you do it in here."

Jax's hand moved from the door to tangle in her hair and jerk her head back hard. He leaned in, whispering in her ear. "You sure that's where you want to go with this?" He felt her chest against him now, heaving with anger, but there was something else. _She's getting off on this,_ he thought. The realization made him angrier, but also sparked arousal in him.

"Yeah," she hissed back at him, her mouth close to his ear. "You want to prove you're a man, prove you're in charge? Do it."

His mouth crashed into her's. The kiss was brutal, bruising. His teeth scraped her lip, his hands tangled in her hair and pulled hard. She didn't try to pull away, but kissed him back just as hard. The kiss quickly became a battle for control, their tongues invading each others' mouths, their lips pushing harder and harder against one another. Finally, Jax pulled back, his eyes still blazing. V. reached out, pulling at his shirt and cut. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her back against the door, holding her arms above her head, then kissed her again, even harder this time. She didn't fight it, just let him kiss her, reacting when she could. He rubbed his body against her, smashing her against the door. She felt his hardness, responding to it automatically by moving her hips towards him.

Still kissing V., Jax dropped her wrists and pulled her shirt off her shoulders. He pulled his mouth off hers and ripped her tank top over her head, then pulled on her bra, hard, until the clasps popped and it fell to the floor. Smirking, he grabbed both her nipple piercings and twisted. He didn't pull hard enough to pull them out, but V. moaned in mixed pain and pleasure, her head banging against the door. "Fuck!" she hissed. He dipped his head down, pulling on first one and then the other piercing with his teeth, much more sharply than he had before. He rubbed his face roughly against her tits, burning her with his stubble and nicking her with his teeth.

Finally, Jax stood back, shrugged out of his cut, and pulled his shirt over his head. He grabbed V.'s shoulders then, turning her around and pushing her on to the bed. While she laid there, he pulled off her boots, then unbuttoned and roughly pulled off her cargo pants. He sat on the bed beside her and put his hand inside her thong. Roughly, he shoved two fingers inside her. She was wet, ready. Her hips lifted off the bed as he pumped his fingers in and out of her.

"You like this, don't you?" he said, adding another finger and pushing into her harder, his hand slamming against her. "This makes you hot."

"And you don't?" she said, panting, pushing her hips against his hand.

Jax did. He was almost overwhelmed with his own arousal. But he was also very angry. Once he started being angry, it snowballed. He was mad at V., but mad too at Tara, mad at Clay, mad at Gemma, mad at the club. The more angry he felt, the harder he pushed his fingers into V. Finally, he ripped her thong off her body, pushing into her faster and faster as her hips rose up off the bed.

Jax pulled his fingers out of V., noticing an empty beer bottle on the floor. He grabbed the bottle and held it up in front of V.'s face. Her eyes widened and her heart raced. _Oh God,_ she thought. _Is he going to..._her thoughts were interrupted by Jax pushing the bottle inside her, his other hand pinching her clitoris. "Oh God," she moaned. "Jax...Jax..." He pulled the bottle out, then shoved it back in, stretching her wide. Tears sprang into her eyes. She moaned, her hips rising up and slamming down against the mattress as Jax pumped the bottle in and out of her. "Oh FUCK!" She came hard, spasming around the bottle and turning to liquid on the bed.

Jax smiled, tossing the bottle on the floor. "Get up." He pulled her into a sitting position, then forced her to turn over so that she was on all fours. She struggled to stay upright, hearing him unzipping his jeans behind her, then unwrapping a condom. She tensed, waiting to feel him push into her. He grabbed her hips with one hand, shoving her face into the bed with the other. Before she could adjust, she felt his cock against her ass. "Jax," she said, her voice cracking, "please..." He ignored her.

When Jax pushed himself into her ass, V. buried her face in the bed to scream. The pain was intense, like he was ripping her in half. His pace wasn't as brutal as it had been with his fingers, or the bottle, but he wasn't gentle. After the first few thrusts, though, she felt the pressure building in her core again. Jax held her by the hips, thrusting into her over and over again. Then he moved one hand off her hips, reaching underneath her and rubbing between her legs. "Fuck, Jax, I'm gonna come again" she whimpered into the bed. Finally, she collapsed into the mattress, her knees giving out. Jax fell on top of her, his orgasm shaking him.

Later, Jax and V. laid side-by-side on the bed, quiet. Neither of them was sure what to say. Finally, Jax spoke. "I feel like I should apologize."

"Why, are you sorry?"

"No."

V. laughed. "You don't need to be."

"Was that what you want?"

V. was quiet. Jax continued. "Is that what you like?"

"Sometimes." She exhaled. "You and I, neither one of us is very good at talking about things. We're better at this."

Jax propped himself up on his elbow and looked at V. "So this was to avoid having to talk?"

V. smiled. "Wouldn't you rather fuck than argue?"

Jax smiled back. "Yeah," he said. "But you're gonna hurt in the morning."

"I hurt now." She laughed.

"You're going on the run no matter what I say, aren't you?"

"Yes."


	14. Chapter 14

V.'s second trip to Oregon was going as smoothly as her first. She picked the guns up from the Irish, spent a few hours on the bike, and dropped them off at the border. By evening, she was relaxing in the Oregon Sons' clubhouse, beer in hand. As had been the case on her first run, she was surrounded by Oregon Sons enraptured with a strange, tough woman. This time, though, she cut them off at the pass not with the knife in her boot, but by telling them she belonged to Jax Teller. Nobody made any kind of move after that.

V. was listening to two bikers try to one-up each other with their stories when a pretty woman approached. Given her dress and demeanor, V. took her for a hang-around. She was also pretty clearly trashed, her walk unstable and her makeup slightly smeared. "You Jax Teller's old lady?" she asked.

"Yeah." V. said, knowing before the woman said anything where this was probably going to go, and not relishing the thought.

The woman laughed. "Are you sure?" she asked. "Jax don't seem to me like somebody with an old lady."

V. rolled her eyes. _Just what I fucking need,_ she thought. "Look honey," she said. "I don't give a fuck what Jax seems like to you."

The woman ran her tongue over her lips. "That's funny," she said, "cuz last time he was up here, he didn't taste like he had an old lady, either."

_Oh good God,_ V. thought. _Does this bitch really want to start shit with me?_ The two men to whom she'd been talking were silent now, watching to see how she'd react. "Well," V. said. "That's probably because last time he was up here, I wasn't his old lady yet." She paused. "Or maybe," she continued, "it's because you've sucked so much dick you can't tell the difference." The two men both laughed. "Either way, it's nothing to me." V. turned away from the woman dismissively.

The woman scowled and started to say something else. V. spun back towards her. "We're finished here," she said. "You'd be smart to get the fuck away from me." A third man grabbed the woman's arm, dragging her away.

_That shit is gonna get old,_ V. thought. She honestly didn't really give a damn who Jax slept with before her, but she didn't particularly want to hear about it, and she certainly didn't want to have to threaten every one of what were probably hundreds of skanks. _That's what I get, I suppose, for choosing to be with someone who has fucked every eligible woman on the I-5 corridor._ The idea made her tired. V. quickly finished her beer and headed to the room she was staying in, locking the door behind her.

In Charming, Jax handled this trip a lot better than the last. He still wasn't happy with V.'s insistence on making the run, but he felt fairly sure she was coming back. Things had been quiet for long enough he'd started to wonder if the Russians might have given up on her. The problems with the club weren't going anywhere, of course, but for the moment, everything was calm. He had managed to avoid Clay all day, and there was no Club business to attend to, so Jax was feeling fairly free and calm as he walked out of the garage that evening.

It was then that he noticed a car sitting at the curb. It was nondescript and unfamiliar, but the license plates were from Texas. Jax tensed, considering going back into the clubhouse for back-up, but deciding against it. He walked towards the car. As he approached the window, it was rolled down. There was a man in the driver's seat. Jax reached into his cut for his gun.

"No need for that, Mr. Teller," said the man. "I've only come to talk to you."

Jax didn't take the gun out, but didn't move his hand out of his cut. "So talk."

The man smiled. "A man of few words," he said. "That's alright. I think you and I have a friend in common."

"I seriously doubt that."

"No? Victoria Kaplan?"

Jax was silent. The man smiled again, a sleazy, condescending smile. "I know you know her, Mr. Teller. There is no need to deny that. And I'm not surprised. Miss Kaplan can tell a very convincing story when there's something she wants. And she's a lovely young woman, or at least she used to be. But I'm afraid she may have given you and and your organization the wrong idea about my employer."

"You work for Leo?"

"I do." The man pulled a manila envelope from the seat beside him and handed through the window to Jax. "Miss Kaplan was also in The King's employ. These are some photographs from that time." He smiled again, that unnerving smile. "The King would prefer Miss Kaplan return to her position."

"She's not coming back."

The man shook his head. "That's not up to you, Mr. Teller. Miss Kaplan has an obligation to The King. She will keep that obligation."

Jax dropped the envelope and reached into the window, his hands around the man's neck. "You tell your boss that V. isn't going anywhere. Her debt to him is paid. He took her child."

The man didn't seem startled by the big hands around his neck. "The child and Miss Kaplan belong to The King," he said, his voice somewhat constricted, "You should be warned. My employer does not take kindly to other men touching his things." Then he started the car, pulling away to force Jax's hands off him.

Jax stood for a moment, watching the car. He considered jumping on his bike and following the slimy fucker, but decided against it. He picked the envelope up and walked back towards the clubhouse.

An hour later, the members of Sam Crow were all around the table. The photos from the manila envelope were face down between them, having been passed around. They were awful. The experience V. had described, being beaten, knifed, and her baby taken out, had been documented. The photographs showed her lying on the ground, bruised, bleeding, cut open. Some showed the fetus. Even Tig couldn't look at them for long.

"That is some of the most brutal shit I have ever seen," Clay said.

"I know," Bobby said. "She told us what happened, but I didn't know..." He trailed off.

Jax said nothing for a long time. He told the group what the man said, but then he got quiet. Like Bobby, V.'s description of what had happened to her had in no way prepared Jax for what he saw in the photographs. V. had gone through something more than he could have imagined.

"Showing us these pictures," Tig said. "That's what, a warning?"

"Yeah," Clay mused. "Trying to get us to turn V. over." He looked at Jax. "Where do you want to go with this, V.P.?"

Jax was startled. Clay rarely asked his opinion these days. Was it a test? Jax couldn't make himself care. After seeing those pictures, all he could think about was punishing the men who had hurt V. so badly.

"We find them and we kill them," Chibs said. There was none of his normal joking in his face or tone. He, too, was sick with what had happened to V.

Jax nodded. "They have to pay for this," he said. "And V. has to be safe." He turned towards Juice. "Reach out to our contacts. Try to find out how many of these guys are in Charming and where."

"On it."

"What are you thinking?" Opie asked.

"We find out where they are holed up and take them out." Jax paused. It was the next part of what he was going to say that he thought might be an issue. "Before V. gets back. I don't want her to know about this."

"Brother, I don't think V.'s gonna have a problem with it," Chibs began. Jax cut him off.

"I know she won't. But she'll want to do it herself." Jax shook his head. "We end this for her."

Clay looked at Jax, thinking of the argument they'd witnessed between Jax and V. regarding her taking the gun runs. It was clear that V., even more so than his own wife, bristled at being coddled and told what to do. Still, he agreed in principle with his step-son. The horrible acts committed against this woman had to be revenged, she had to be protected, and she shouldn't have to do it herself. He nodded. "Agreed. We find these guys and take care of this before V. gets back." He looked at Juice. "Find out everything you can. And hurry. Bobby, Chibs, go make a visit to our Russian friend at St. Thomas. Twist that knife V. put in his gut and see if he can tell us anything about who else to expect at this party. Me and Tig will go pay the good police chief a visit, see if we can find anything out that way."

"I'm going with Bobby and Chibs," Jax said.

Clay nodded and rose. "Everybody keep your head up," he said. "These fuckers clearly aren't afraid to put the hurt on."

Walking down the hospital hall, Jax felt his chest tighten. He hated being here. It wasn't just that he'd had to spend so much time here after Abel was born, but that he saw Tara around every bend. Every time he saw a dark-haired woman in scrubs, his heart stopped. _She's not here,_ he reminded himself. _She's not coming back._

Entering the room whose number Jax had sweet-talked from the desk, all his thoughts of Tara fell away. He'd been wanting to pay this man a visit, but had stayed away because V. asked him to. Seeing him now, and realizing he'd tried to take V. away, realizing he could even have taken part in the acts those horrible photographs portrayed, Jax was overcome with hate.

He strode across the room in two steps, Bobby and Chibs behind him. Before the man in the bed even realized they were in the room, Jax's hand was at his throat.

"You tried to kidnap my old lady," Jax said, his voice cold and angry. "Is there any reason I shouldn't kill you?"

The man laughed, the sound stifled by Jax's hand on his neck. "Your old lady?" he said, his accent thick. "That whore?"

Jax's fist was pulled back before the words were fully out of the man's mouth. If Chibs hadn't been behind him, catching his arm, he would have hit the injured man square in the face.

"Calm, brother," Bobby said. "He can't tell us shit if you knock him out." To the man in the bed, he said, "V. is a friend of ours. Say anything else about her and you won't walk out of here."

Scowling, Jax removed his hand from the man's throat. "So talk," he said. "Where are your buddies? The two who jumped V. with you? More? How many?"

The man snorted. "Don't know," he said. "And if I were you, I wouldn't look for them." He smiled.

Jax's hand returned to the man's throat. "Think harder," he spit. "Or you stop breathing."

The man shrugged. Seeing the images from the photographs in his head, Jax felt only fury. He grabbed the man's throat with his other hand, choking him. Bobby and Chibs looked on, neither of them stopping him. As the man gasped, a monitor to which he was attached sounded.

"Shit," Bobby said. "We gotta go, man." He grabbed Jax's shoulder. The color was draining from the man's face. "Now!" Chibs grabbed Jax's other shoulder and they pulled him away, disappearing down the hall just before the nurse appeared.

An hour later, the Sons re-congregated. Juice had hit only dead ends, and Unser knew nothing. Hearing that nobody had anything, Jax punched the wall, furious and frustrated. "I should have run that asshole down when I had the chance!"

The men sat around a while longer, unaccustomed to the feeling of futility they were experiencing. None of them could figure out what to do next, but neither could they give up and go home.

When V. returned the next day, Jax was out of the garage on some sort of Club business. The other Sons seemed oddly quiet, asking V. how the run had gone, but not teasing like they usually did. After she'd chatted with everyone, V. made a beeline for the clubhouse and the shower. She was washing the road dust out of her hair when she heard someone enter her room and then open the door to the bathroom.

"Jax?"

"Hey, baby." He'd only intended to come in and say hello to V., but seeing her silhouette through the shower door, he couldn't help himself. He stripped quickly and was in the shower with her before her hair was completely rinsed.

"Mmm..." she said, feeling his arms around her as the water ran through her hair. "Hi."

"Hi." He lifted her wet hair, leaning over and kissing up her neck. He spoke close to her ear. "How was the run?"

"Fine." She leaned back against him, feeling the strength of his body behind her. "Met a friend of yours."

"Yeah? Who?" He ran his hands over her body, skimming lightly over her breasts, then down her hips.

"Didn't catch her name," V. said. "Pretty girl, though. Apparently, she doesn't think you taste like a man with an old lady." She punctuated her final words and made her meaning clear by reaching behind her and grabbing him, hard.

_Oh shit_, Jax thought. He racked his brain for who the girl would be, settling on the most likely choice quickly. "V.," he said, not moving his mouth from her ear. "That was before."

V. smiled, hearing the practiced pleading enter his voice. This was a conversation he'd had before. "Yeah?" she said. "You sure?"

"You're not dumb," he replied. "You know I haven't even been up there since we've been together."

V. turned around to face him. He was gorgeous. Droplets of water were trapped in his short beard, his half-wet hair fell over his face. She ran her finger down his muscled chest, over the tattoo of Abel's name, down his hard stomach. She smiled. "I know," she said. She kissed him, rubbing the length of her body against his. "What I need need to know," she continued, "is whether I should expect this to keep happening."

Jax pushed her V.'s wet hair back from her face. She didn't look pissed. "It might," he admitted. "I've been with a lot of girls. You know that."

"That's not what I meant, Jax," V. replied. "I'm asking about next time. How are we doing this?"

Jax nodded, realizing what she was saying. "I'm with you now," he said. "Just with you." He lifted her chin, looking straight at her. "And you'd better be just with me." Looking at her, he couldn't help but think of the pictures. This beautiful woman, her face bruised and bloody, her body invaded in a way too horrible to even contemplate. He pushed the thoughts out of his mind.

"OK," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck, the water pounding on her back. "I'm just with you." She kissed him, then continued. "Next one of these bitches tries to start shit with me is going get smacked, though."

Jax laughed. "I'd like to see that," he murmured, turning his attention away from his head, and from the conversation, and towards her wet body.

V. was drying her hair when she asked the next question Jax didn't want to answer. He'd pulled his jeans back on and was enjoying watching her dry herself off. "Hey," she said. "Everybody seems a little weird here today. Did something happen while I was gone?"

"Nah," Jax said. "Just regular club bullshit." He'd decided before he ever saw her that there was no way he was going to tell her about the photographs. Much as he knew she would want to know, knew she would be angry at him for hiding them from her, he couldn't put her through seeing them. Though he wasn't yet sure how to do it, he was still convinced the best thing to do was to take care of this for her.

V. looked at him, her brows furrowed. "You sure?" she said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

Jax nodded. "Don't worry about it baby," he said. "It's nothing." He smiled, then reached for her, pulling her towards him.


	15. Chapter 15

V. noticed a change in Jax over the next few days. He seemed at once distant and overly close. He insisted on spending a lot of time with her, giving her rides on his bike when she could have walked, bringing her home with him every night, but he said very little. At night, he held her tightly, and every time she woke up it seemed that he was already lying awake. Though she asked him several times, Jax continued to say there was nothing wrong. V. found it frustrating, but knew better than to push too hard, assuming it was club business.

Very early one morning, V. woke to find Jax gone. She got up, pulling his flannel on and buttoning it as she walked down the hall. She found him in Abel's room, watching his young son sleep.

"Hey."

"Hey." He was sitting in the rocker, shirtless and barefoot. He looked tired. V. knelt in front of him, her hands on his knees.

"You OK?"

He reached out to her, petting her hair. "Yeah." She was so beautiful, and looked so small, kneeling in front of him. It was getting easier to look at her without seeing the photographs, but it was still a challenge. It was worst when they had sex--he hadn't been able to look at her face when he was inside her since he'd seen the pictures.

"Been up a long time?"

He nodded. "Couldn't sleep."

"You want to tell me about it?" There was no fear in her eyes, no trepidation. When Tara had asked him what was going on, she'd always had a look in her eyes that begged him not to tell her. V. didn't have that look. V. meant it when she asked him for the truth. But he couldn't tell her this truth.

"Nothing to worry about," he said, grabbing her hands and pulling her up and into his lap. "Mmm...you're warm."

V. put her arms around his neck and tossed her legs over the arm of the chair. Not long ago, she'd never have imagined herself willingly taking this position--she was so vulnerable like this, so childlike. With her face against his chest, though, she felt safe. She'd so rarely felt safe. The other part of their physical relationship, the angry part, the part that could be violent--that part was easy for V. She knew that part, expected it, loved it. She knew how much to fight, and when, and could let her pleasure come without shame. This part, the gentle part, was harder. Since the night they'd fought about the gun run, though, he had been only gentle. More and more, he seemed to treat her as if she was fragile, like she was going to break.

It was Jax treating her like she was made of glass that was on V.'s mind later that afternoon when she wandered behind Teller-Morrow to the makeshift boxing ring area. With the guys all working in the garage or out, it was deserted. Thinking some time on the bag would be just what she needed to take her mind off Jax's odd behavior, V. pulled off her boots and her flannel shirt. In just cut-off denim shorts and an a-shirt, she began to work the bag. First, she punched tentatively, out of practice. In only a few minutes, though, she was throwing full combinations. _Left jab, right jab, left hook, right hook. Like riding a bike._ She grinned. It felt good to be hitting something.

As V. threw punches at the bag, she was vaguely aware of the crowd gathering to watch her. She ignored them, not wanting to let them spoil her good time or give them the satisfaction of throwing her off. After a minute, knowing she had an audience began to energize her. She increased the speed and strength of her punches, threw more complicated combinations, added kicks. When she finally stopped, she was completely winded, leaning over and panting with her hands on her knees.

V. heard clapping and a whistle. She turned to the audience. Chibs, Half-Sack, and Tig were standing against the garage's back wall, watching.

"You weren't kidding about being a brawler, were you?" Chibs asked, approaching her.

V. laughed. "Been a while," she panted. "Need to stop smoking, can't fucking breathe."

Half-Sack stood silently, looking amazed. It was hard to tell much from bag work, but her form looked fantastic. And she was hitting the bag a lot harder than he'd have expected possible from a girl.

"Can you do as much damage to a body as you are to that bag?" Tig asked.

"Been known to," V. replied. "Why, you wanna go?"

Tig raised an eyebrow. "I'm not the one who earns in the ring," he said. "Half-Sack, you should spar with V. You could use some actual training."

Half-Sack sputtered. "I'm not going to hit a girl!"

V. rolled her eyes. "Right, chivalry." She shook her head. "Fucking men."

"Seriously boy, she could do you some good," Chibs said. "Sparring with Lowell ain't doing shit for you."

"No fuckin' way man, Jax would kick my ass if I hit his old lady."

V. rolled her eyes. Punching the bag had reminded her how much she liked to fight. Jax's treatment of her recently had been stifling, if sweet. She could use a brawl. She smiled sweetly at Half-Sack. "Why don't you let me worry about Jax? What he doesn't know won't hurt him."

Chibs laughed. "You want a fight, don't you?"

V. smiled back. "I do. Been too long." She turned to Half-Sack. "What do you say, Prospect?"

Half-Sack shook his head. "No fucking way, man."

"Dammit Half-Sack," V. said, irritated now. "It's not like you'd be jumping me in an ally. I'm bigger than you, I'm faster than you, and I spent years fighting for money. I didn't lose very fucking often, either. You aren't going to hurt me." Suddenly, she smiled wickedly. "Unless you're afraid I'm gonna hurt you."

Chibs and Tig both laughed. "Get in there, Prospect," Tig said. "She won't hurt you. Much."

Half-Sack shook his head, but V. could see he was giving in. She put an arm around his skinny shoulder. "Come on, Half-Sack," she said. "I promise I won't hurt you."

"Fuck." Half-Sack looked irritatedly at Chibs and Tig. "Are you sure?"

The older Sons both nodded. Knowing he was beaten, Half-Sack turned to V. "Are you sure?"

V. smiled. "Of course. But don't wuss out on me. You have to hit for real. And if you don't, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you."

A few minutes later, Half-Sack and V. faced each other in the ring. The audience had grown as Clay, Juice, and Bobby had wandered out from the garage and been appraised of the situation.

"None of that kicking shit," Half-Sack said. "That's against the rules."

V. laughed. "I've never been in a fight that had a whole lot of rules. But OK, no kicking. Anything else?"

Half-Sack shook his head, scowling. He knew this wasn't going to turn out well.

"We putting money on this?" Clay asked.

"Mine's on V.," Bobby replied. "She's gonna tear that Prospect up."

Before they could set terms, though, V. and Half-Sack had started. They each swung a few times, blocking and ducking each other expertly. "C'mon, Half-Sack," V. teased. "I know you can do better." With her words, she landed a blow to the side of his head.

Half-Sack shook it off. They continued to circle, both getting increasingly into it. Half-Sack swung, V. didn't duck completely, and he connected with her shoulder. She reeled back, then reacted, coming forward with two quick jabs, which he blocked.

"Is that Prospect gonna get the better of you, V?" Chibs called. "I'm disappointed!"

V. grinned. She'd forgotten just how much fun this was. She threw another combination, and as Half-Sack blocked her jab, her right hook made contact. He stumbled backward, then popped back up and hit her directly in the mouth.

V. laughed as she leaned out of the side of the ring, spitting blood. When she looked up, though, the smiles on the spectators' faces, and on Half-Sack's, had disappeared. Jax was walking quickly across the lot, already yelling.

"What the fuck are you doing?" His eyes blazed as he climbed up into the ring. Seeing him approaching Half-Sack, V. stepped between them.

"Jax, calm down. Just sparring. No big deal." She smiled at him, feeling the blood well back up in her mouth.

Jax looked at V. incredulously. She was sweating, panting. Her lip was split and blood ran down her chin. His stomach turned. He saw her lying on the ground, hurt and violated. From across the lot, he'd seen Half-Sack hit her. He wanted to kill the prospect. He reached around V., moving towards Half-Sack again and grabbing his shirt.

"Dammit, Jax, stop," V. knocked Jax's hand off Half-Sack and stood directly in front of him. "What the fuck is your problem?" She spit blood again. The other Sons stood back, watching, not sure whether to be concerned or amused.

"I'm not going to let anybody else hurt you," Jax huffed, attempting to push V. out of the way.

"Jax!" V. yelled, forcing him to look at her. "Nobody is hurting me. Half-Sack and I were sparring. For fun. My idea."

Jax stared at V. He could see now that she wasn't really hurt. He reached out and took her face in his hand, appraising her. The bleeding from her lip was already stopping. He let her words sink in. This had been her idea. Sparring. Fun. He shook his head. "What is wrong with you?" he said. "You think this is...fun?"

"Sure." V. scowled at him. "Like you don't."

"She's got you there, brother," Chibs said. "Not like you don't enjoy a good brawl."

"That's different," Jax said, his eyes not leaving V. "Is it not enough that some psycho Russian butcher is after you? Not enough to run illegal guns? Not a big enough thrill? Do you just like pain?" His eyes were angry, like they had been the night they'd argued about the gun run. He grabbed her shoulders, shaking her. "Don't you get it?" he yelled. "You're in real danger. This isn't a goddamn game!"

V.'s eyes narrowed. "Do you really think," she said in a low, angry voice, "that you need to tell me about danger? About pain?" She glared at him. Then she turned, climbed down from the ring, and ran towards the clubhouse.

Jax watched her run, then turned back to Half-Sack. "Don't you ever touch her again," he growled. Then he got out of the ring and stomped after V.

In the clubhouse, V. sat on her bed. Waves of anger washed over her. She punched the pillow, but it was unsatisfying.

Jax didn't knock, just walked in. V. looked up at him, her face hard.

"So what now?" he asked, his face drawn and his voice angry. "You want me to fuck you until neither of us is mad anymore? Is that how we do this?"

"I don't know, Jax, is that how you want to do this?" she asked. Her voice was no kinder than his. "Do you want to hurt me?"

He shook his head. "No," he said. "I don't want anybody to hurt you."

"That's not what it felt like the other night."

He remembered. He'd known she was in pain, but he'd continued, because he was angry, because she was willing, because the heat between them was incredible. It was tempting, even, to do it again. He wanted to push her back onto the bed and take her, pound into her until there was no more anger left. But that wasn't going to work this time.

"You wanted that," he finally said.

"Yeah, I did." She sighed. "I do like pain. I like rough sex. I like to fight." She met his eyes. "You're gonna have to get right with that, or this isn't going to work."

He sat down on the bed, then reached out to her, touching her face gently. "You've seen so much violence," he said. "I just want to protect you."

"We've both seen a lot of violence, Jax. We've done a lot of violence. And we'll see and do more. It ain't gonna change." V. smiled tentatively. "I want to be with you. But you have to accept that this is who I am. If what you need is a damaged princess to rescue, you should find someone else."

He watched her as she spoke. For the first time in days, he saw her strong, stubborn, still-angry face, rather than the blank and bloody face of the girl in the photographs. He began to realize that the woman in front of him was not the woman who had suffered that attack, but the one who had survived it.

"I've never met a woman like you," he said, shaking his head. "I don't know what to do with you."

"Stop treating me like I'm going to break. I've been through some horrible shit, Jax, but I'm here. I'm fine."

He thought again of how she looked in the pictures. "What about what happened to you?" he asked. "What about the people who are after you?"

"What about them? I hope they won't be back. If they do come back, I know you'll help me take care of it."

Jax closed his eyes. He knew he should tell her about the pictures and the man who dropped them off. He also knew there was no way he was going to do that.

V. leaned forward, pressing her lips to Jax's briefly. "You'll lay off the Prospect, right? This is so not his fault. I had to talk him into sparring with me. And I don't think he was trying very hard, either."

Jax smiled. "Yeah, I'll lay off the Prospect." He pulled her towards him. "You still mad?"

"Nah." She settled into his embrace. "This is gonna keep happening, though. You know that, right?"

He smiled into her hair. "Yeah." He inhaled her scent. "Next time, let's go back to working things out the other way."


	16. Chapter 16

"V., the Club needs a favor."

Surprised, V. turned to look at Clay. She and Jax and Abel were having dinner with Clay and Gemma, a situation which made V. more than a bit nervous, but seemed to be going OK. She'd almost forgotten that with Gemma and Clay, there was usually an ulterior motive.

"OK." V. furrowed her brow, glancing at Jax. She was surprised to see that Jax was smiling.

"We need you to do some security."

V. nodded slowly. Again she looked at Jax. He was biting his lip to keep his smile at bay.

"At LuAnn's."

V.'s eyes widened. "You want me to do security for porn?"

"Yeah. Chibs and Juice have been doing it, but there's a new girl, thinks Juice is creepy. Doesn't trust Sam Crow. She's making things hard for LuAnn. So I want you to go with Chibs instead."

"Why would she trust me?"

"Because she wouldn't know you're security."

It took V. a moment to realize what Clay was saying. When she got it, however, she was unamused. "You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said. "You want me to pose as a porn star?" She looked at Jax. "Did you know about this?"

Jax nodded, grinning.

"You pick now, of all times, not to be overprotective?"

Jax laughed. "This isn't dangerous. It's just to keep things easy for LuAnn."

"It's only for a few days," Clay said. "You hang out on the set, keep your eyes open, give us a call if anything happens. That's it."

V. shook her head. "I'd rather run guns."

Clay smiled. "You're a girl of many talents," he said.

V. pursed her lips and turned to Jax. "Is this really necessary?"

Jax grinned again. "He's the president."

V. glared. "If I find out this is just an excuse to get me dressed like a slut, you're gonna pay, Teller."

The next day, V. met Chibs at Teller-Morrow to leave for the studio. Having been briefed to what was going on, the other Sons all found excuses to hang out and wait for V. to come out of her room. Knowing they were out there, V. stalled, but eventually could wait no more. When she stomped out into the clubhouse, the first thing she said was, "one fucking word, and I cut you."

The room went quiet. V. had gone all out. Her motorcycle boots were replaced by knee high black boots with a high heel and a pointed toe. Her denim skirt was very short, accented with a studded belt. Her black halter top covered her stomach, but was cut in deeply on the sides and backless, revealing a gorgeous full back tattoo. The tat was unlike V.'s other, one-color, gender-neutral pieces. It was super feminine, a watercolor painting stretching from her shoulders to her waist. V.'s hair was pulled into low pigtails and her makeup was heavy.

V. turned to Chibs. "Am I gonna be OK without weapons on this? I got no fucking place for a gun."

Chibs smiled. "Don't worry about it princess, I got the firepower covered." He flipped his cut open to reveal his shoulder holster. "Besides, nothin's gonna happen. This is just for show."

V. nodded curtly. As she walked towards the door, Jax pulled her into his arms. "You look hot," he murmured into her ear.

She pulled out of his grasp and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Don't get used to it." She could hear him laughing as the clubhouse door slammed behind her.

The ride to the studio with Chibs was a tense one. V. alternatively struggled to keep her short skirt covering her ass and to lean enough to Chibs enough to stay on but not to much he'd think something of it. Finally, he stopped at a light and turned to look at her.

"I know you're Jacky's girl," he said. "But you gotta hang on."

She nodded. She'd felt a bit uncomfortable with him since the night he'd comforted her after her nightmare, but it wasn't worth falling off the bike over. She wrapped her arms loosely around his waist before they took off again.

The studio was so busy nobody seemed to notice when Chibs and V. walked in. The girls were used to Chibs, and new talent was common the set. LuAnn spotted them and waved from her director's chair. V. looked around. It was about what she'd expected--a lot of young woman in lingerie, a few muscular men with blank expressions.

"So how do we do this?" V. asked Chibs in a low voice.

"Nothing to it darlin'," Chibs replied, plopping himself on the couch. "We just hang out, watch them shoot."

V. rolled her eyes. _Just how I love to spend my time,_ she thought. _Dressed like a hooker, watching live-action porn._ She sat down next to Chibs, shifting uncomfortably to keep her skirt covering her. Chibs grinned. "Not your style, huh?"

"No." V. pursed her lips, looking down at herself. "I had this phase. Then I turned 15."

"Looks good, though." He raised his eyebrows at her, looking her up and down. "You grew up nice."

V. shook her head, though she was smiling. "Incorrigible," she muttered.

The day dragged on. Chibs watched the filming with great interest. V. paced, checked the exits, did repeated head-counts, and generally tried to avoid paying any attention to what was being filmed. Finally, she returned to the couch, where she concentrated on her lap.

"This bother you then?" Chibs asked, noticing her reluctance to look at the action.

"No." V. looked at Chibs. "It's just boring. People pretending to like each other. Pretending to get off." She shook her head. "I don't see the point. What are we security for, anyway?"

"Another studio," Chibs said. "Guy wanted to take over LuAnn's business. Started threatening her girls, that kind of thing. Hasn't been a problem in a while, but we make the girls feel safe."

V. looked at Chibs more closely. "If the purpose of being here is to make them feel safe," she said, her voice icing over, "then why in God's name am I dressed up like one of them?"

Realizing he'd said the wrong thing, Chibs bit his lip. "Look, V., I don't know why Clay wanted you on this. He just did."

V. scowled. "Come on. What the fuck is this about? I can't imagine you all would go through all this just to get me in hot pants."

Chibs raised his eyebrows. "You'd be surprised."

V. didn't smile. "Why am I here, Chibs?"

Chibs frowned. She wasn't going to let it go. "I don't know. Jax just needed you to be gone."

V.'s face changed from irritation to real anger. "Jax?" She didn't ask any more questions, just got up from where she was sitting. "Take me back to Teller-Morrow, Chibs. Now."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"I don't give a fuck what you think. Take me back now, or I will go out there and jack one of these bitch's cars."

Knowing she'd do it, Chibs sighed and got up off the couch.

The man V. stabbed, Percy, was out of the hospital for all of two seconds before he was on his way to the clubhouse, courtesy of Juice, Tig, and the Prospect. Jax and Clay were there waiting. Tig pushed Percy out of the van, his gun to the man's temple. Before he was even fully out of the car behind the garage, Jax had Percy on the ground, kicking his ribs and cursing. Juice pulled Jax back for long enough for Tig to get the man upright.

"You want to live," Clay said, "then you're going to tell us where to find your boss-man."

Percy was silent. Jax punched him full in the face, opening a geyser of blood from his nose.

"Let's try this again," Clay said, his voice cool. "How many of you are there, and where?"

The man spit blood. "Fuck you."

Jax landed another blow, knocking him to the ground, then hauled him back up.

"I saw what you motherfuckers did to V.," Jax hissed. "I will kill you."

"Maybe you'd better leave that to me." The men all turned around. V. was standing in the doorway, still dressed as she had been to go to the studio. Chibs stood behind her, looking sheepish. He shrugged, as if to tell his friends that there hadn't been anything he could do.

V. crossed the room quickly. Her eyes were fixed on Percy's bloody face.

"Leo sent you," she said.

He sneered at her. "Don't know why you're worth it," he said. He looked her up and down. "You're just another whore."

Before Jax could hit Percy again, V. stopped him. "This is me," she said. Exchanging a look with Tig, she took the gun from his hand and cocked it, then put it directly against Percy's temple.

"Is Leo here?" she asked, her voice quiet. "Is Leo in Charming?"

Percy sneered again.

"I will kill you," V. said slowly. Without moving the gun or her eyes, she addressed Tig. "If I shoot this motherfucker, are we going to be able to make that disappear?"

"Yeah," Tig said. "We got a way to do that."

"OK." V pushed the fist not holding the gun into Percy's stomach, breaking open his half-healed wound and causing him to scream in pain. "Is," she dug her fist in farther, blood starting to darken his shirt, "Leo," she dug a bit further, feeling stitches pop under her knuckles, "here?"

Percy gasped. "You crazy bitch!"

"That's right." V. smiled in a way nobody in the room had ever seen. "And I'm thinking you know enough about me to know I will do this," she said, tilting the gun a bit. "So you'd better answer the fucking question."

"He's on his way." Percy's voice was small, scared. "He's coming to get you."

"When?"

"I don't know."

"Where?"

"Hotel's just outside Charming. South on 5. Cabana something."

Again, V. addressed Tig without moving her eyes or the gun. "You know where that is?"

"Yeah."

"OK." V. smiled that smile again. "Now, I'm gonna ask you another question. And I know the answer, so you'd better tell me the fucking truth."

Percy nodded.

"Were you there the night they killed my baby?" She lowered the hand without the gun, pulling her shirt up to reveal her scarred stomach. "Did you see Leo do this?"

"No. No. God."

V. nodded. Slowly, keeping her eyes on Percy, she lowered the gun. "What do you want to do with this guy?" she asked the men around her.

"Up to you," Clay responded.

V. nodded. "Get out," she said to Percy. "Out of here, out of Charming. I see you again, I'll kill you." She turned, then, and walked towards the clubhouse.

As soon as Percy had been seen off the premises, Jax went inside to find V. He found her sitting at the bar, a beer open in front of her. He sat down next to her.

She turned to him with cold eyes. "What did you mean you saw what they did to me?"

As soon as Jax opened his mouth, she cut him off. "Don't fucking lie, Jax."

Jax nodded. He'd been intending to lie, intending still not to tell her about the photographs. But he knew she'd know. He got up and walked towards the Chapel, coming back in a few moments with the manila envelope. As V. opened it and took out the pictures, he told her about the man who gave them to him. He watched her face closely as she flipped through them. Her eyes remained cold and angry.

"When?" her voice was controlled.

Again, he considered lying, but decided he hadn't much to lose by telling the truth at this point. "When you were on the run."

She turned to him then. "You weren't going to tell me." It wasn't a question.

"No." He reached out to her; she backed away. "I wanted to protect you. I didn't want you to have to see them." He gestured to the pictures on the bar.

She laughed. It was a hard sound. "I was there, Jax. You can't protect me from this." She stood up, looking down at her apparel and then back at him. "And this," she gestured at her clothes, "this was about getting me out of the way?"

"It's not like that, V. I just wanted to see if we could get anything from this guy." He reached for her hand, trying to pull her back into her seat.

V.'s face turned finally from controlled sadness to rage. "Get your fucking hand off me," she said. She turned, then, and walked towards her bedroom without looking back.

By the time V. came back out, the garage was closed and the rest of the Sons had congregated in the clubhouse. She had changed back into her normal tank top and cargo pants, boots on her feet, her gun in it's back holster. She accepted a beer from Half-Sack, then sat down on a bar stool.

The room got quiet. V.'s voice was calm as she began. "I really appreciate what you all tried to do for me today." She looked around. All eyes were on her. "I know you're trying to keep me safe. Maybe fix what happened to me, even. And I thank you for that. But this is my fight."

She looked around again. She was horrified thinking that all of these men had seen the pictures, seen her at the most vulnerable and painful moment of her life. She took a deep breath and continued. "You saw what Leo did to me." She looked at her lap, not sure she was going to be able to continue. She forced herself to raise her head. "I want to be safe, and I want him to pay. But I have to do it myself."

"When I asked you why you needed our help, you said it was because there's only one of you," Tig said. "There's still only one of you."

V. nodded. "And I still need your help. I'm not saying I don't. But you should all know by now that I'm not a girl you can hide and protect. I fight in my own battles." She swallowed, the anger rising in her again. She turned to Clay. "You've been really good to me. Thank you. But if this is how things need to work for Sam Crow--without me involved--then I need to go. Now."

"Don't be stupid," Jax broke in. "You'll get killed your own."

She turned to him. "That's what you don't get," she said. "I'd rather get killed on my own than be dressed up as a whore and kept in a closet while you do my dirty work for me."

Jax began to say something else, but something about the look in her face stopped him. He knew she wasn't listening.

"You gonna be able to do what needs to be done?" Clay asked. "If we get you in, back you up, you gonna be able to take this Leo out?"

V. turned back to him, her eyes blazing. "I'm looking forward to it."


	17. Chapter 17

Jax hesitated before opening the door to V.'s room. He knew from his experience the night before that it was best not to knock. He'd knocked and come in twice, hoping to talk her into coming home with him. The first time, she'd completely ignored him, the second she'd thrown her boots at his head. He'd hated to leave her there, but knew the guys who lived at the clubhouse would watch out for her, so he'd eventually given up and gone home. What neither he nor V. knew was that Chibs and Juice had already decided to take shifts sleeping so that someone would always be awake and on lookout. Though she'd been with them only a fairly short time, V. had integrated herself into the club. She was their family now, their sister--they weren't going to let anything happen to her.

V. was sprawled out across the bed, fully dressed, her boots further muddying the already dirty blanket. Her gun was on the nightstand, only a couple of inches from her hand. Next to it was an almost empty bottle of whiskey. Though she was fast asleep, her face wasn't relaxed. She seemed tense, scared. Not fully trusting her not to shoot him if he startled her, Jax quickly crossed the room and moved the gun before speaking.

"V.?"

She opened her eyes quickly. She never slept very deeply. As he'd expected, her first response was to reach for the gun. He caught her hand. "It's me, it's OK."

She pulled her hand away and sat up, her back against the wall. "What do you want?"

"I want to talk to you."

She sighed. "I have nothing to say to you, Jax. And I don't much feel like listening to anything you have to say to me."

Knowing he didn't likely have long before she started throwing things, Jax let the words spill out over each other. "I was trying to protect you, V. I'm sorry. I know you're mad."

V. smiled sadly. "No, I'm not mad. If I were, this wouldn't be so hard." She tipped her head back, wishing for a cigarette. "I so want to trust you. Just to sit back and let you protect me. I should be furious. I should be smacking you. But instead, what I really want is for you to hold me and tell me this is all going to be OK."

"So why not let me do that?" For a moment, Jax felt a weight lift, thinking she understood, that she was finally coming around to letting him take care of her.

"Because this is my life." Her wistful look was gone. "I fought to get my life back, Jax. I lost my child in that fight. And there is no fucking way I'm going to give it away. Not even to you."

Jax nodded. "OK. I understand. From here on out, it's your call."

V. shook her head. "That's not good enough." She got up from the bed, walking towards the door. "You can't help it, Jax. You're treating me the only way you know how to treat a woman. And it's not going to work."

He grabbed her, holding her in front of him. "What are you saying?"

She looked at him, wanting so badly for him to kiss her, to take her back to the bed and make it all go away. But she couldn't. She moved out of his grasp. "We're done," she said softly. Then she turned and walked out of the room.

***

"The problem is that we don't know if the boss man is here yet," Clay said. He'd congregated the members of SAMCRO in the Chapel, along with V., to formulate a plan of attack.

Tig nodded. "We go in there guns blazin' and he's not here yet, we got a problem. Element of surprise is shot."

"Can we go on recon? Figure out how many there are, then go in?" Juice asked.

"No." V. said. "This is gonna be a one-shot deal. They'll have pulled all your sheets by now. Any of you show up there, they'll know who you are." She bit her lip. Her face looked uncertain for a minute, then she stood up. "I got an idea."

V. opened the Chapel door and grabbed her cell phone from the box on the table. Inhaling deeply, she punched a number from memory. None of the men spoke, all listening closely to her end of the conversation.

"Please connect me to Detective Anderson. He'll take my call. Tell him it's Victoria."

While she waited, V. paced nervously. It was clear this was a call she didn't want to make.

"Hi, Ben. It's me. Yeah. I know. I'm sorry. I had to get out. Yeah. Never been much on sayin' goodbye. I'm fine. No, in California. Ben, I need a favor." V. licked her lips, clearly made nervous by whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying. "I know. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. I need to know if Leo's on the move. Please, Ben, I wouldn't ask you if there was another way." V. was quiet for a minute, clearly listening. "Where?" She listened again. "I can't promise that. You know what he did to me." There was a briefer silence this time. "Yesterday? OK." V sighed. "Thank you, Ben." Jax couldn't see V.'s face from where he sat around the redwood table, but he could hear the sadness in her voice. "No. I'm not coming back. Never liked Texas anyway." She laughed, but it sounded hollow. He could hear the resignation in her voice. "I love you too. Goodbye." Hearing V. tell someone she loved him, Jax's heart entered his throat. He remembered her in the woods, telling him she'd never been in love.

V. pitched her phone back into the box and came back into the Chapel. "Leo's on his way. He left yesterday. Only travels by car, so he'll probably be here tomorrow." She sat back down.

The men exchanged glances. "You got a cop on your side in Texas?" Bobby asked.

V. smiled, but her face was sad. "No. Ben..." she trailed off. "Ben was in love with me a long time ago. He saved my life when Leo cut me up. If he hadn't found me, I'd have bled to death." She carefully avoided looking at Jax.

"How do you know you can trust the cop's information?" Jax didn't look at V. when he asked the question.

"I know I can trust him the same way I know I can trust you," V. said. After a pause, she added, "this man saved my life. That's worth something to me."

"And how do you know he won't come after you for it when this guy turns up dead?" Tig asked.

"Ben won't be sad to see Leo go. And he doesn't want me in prison. As long as he thinks he as any chance with me, he'll do whatever I need him to do. Just like he always has." V.'s voice was cold. "That's what the I love you was for."

Tig shook his head. "Fucking women, man. All the same."

V. didn't respond. She turned to Clay. "So we know he'll be in town by tomorrow night. What's the plan?"

After the meeting ended, V. went back to the office to finish some paperwork. As she came out the door, she looked up and noticed Jax's figure on the roof of the clubhouse. There was a dim light coming from the end of his cigarette. She wanted so badly to climb the ladder, to sit next to him on the roof. She shook her head and set her jaw, then crossed the lot quickly and went into the clubhouse.

Inside, only Chibs was sitting at the bar. "Hey," he said, tipping his glass in V.'s direction.

"Hey." She sat down next to him, motioning toward the bottle. "Mind if I join you?"

He smiled. "Not at all." He poured her a shot. She took it quickly and neatly, then held the glass back out.

"Worried about tomorrow?" Chibs asked, refilling the glass.

V. nodded. "Yeah. Goin' up against Leo wasn't something I wanted to have to do." She took a deep breath, then slammed the second shot.

He poured her another. "Where's Jacky?"

"On the roof."

"Does that when's he's thinkin' on something."

V. nodded.

"Still mad at him, then?"

"No. Not mad." She sighed. "It's just not gonna work. I'm not what Jax needs. He needs a woman he can protect. I can't let him do that."

Chibs raised his eyebrows, then got up, grabbing the bottle and his glass and heading towards the couch. "Sounds like a long story. Come on. Let's get drunk."

V. smiled at his forwardness, then grabbed her glass and followed him. On the ratty sofa, she unlaced her boots and kicked them off, then tucked her feet up underneath her. She took another shot while she waited for Chibs to speak.

"You know he's just tryin' to help you, right?" Chibs looked at V., wondering if she was serious about not being with Jax.

V. nodded. "I know. And I know he'd keep just trying to help me, no matter what I said." Her face was sad. "It was never going to work with me and Jax. I should have known better."

"Why not let him take care of you?" Chibs asked. "Why not let somebody?"

"You heard me talk to Ben today," she said slowly. "That's what happens to men who try to take care of me."

"The cop? What's he have to do with it?" Chibs filled V.'s glass again. She was easily keeping up with him, drinking quickly.

"That's a pretty long story."

"I got nowhere to be."

V. nodded. She'd been thinking about Ben all day. It would be good to get it out. She spoke slowly at first. "I was sixteen when I got out of juvie. My dad was gone, my mom was...high. My brother was ten. He--Devin, his name was Devin--he was already a mess. And so was I." She sighed. "I needed money. Needed to take care of him. Like I told you before, I started boxing. But I was doing other stuff, too. Stripped some. Don't have the constitution for that." She laughed.

Chibs looked at V. with a raised eyebrow, thinking of how uncomfortable she'd been the day before at the porn studio. Couldn't quite see her stripping. Wasn't a bad thought to have, though...he reeled his mind back in and returned to concentrating on her story, trying to ignore the closeness of her. He poured another shot for each of them.

"Mostly, I stole things," V. continued. "Dealt drugs. But I was stupid, and I got caught." She drank the shot Chibs had just poured. She was starting to feel more relaxed, the liquor warming her. "That's when I met Ben. He wasn't a detective then, just a uniform. He was like your Deputy Hale--all good intentions. Pretty wife, nice kids, went to church every Sunday. Tryin' to make the world a better place. Thought he could save me." She grabbed the bottle and poured herself another. "And wanted to fuck me." She sighed. "I'd been around enough by then. I knew I could use that. So I did. He fell in love with me. And I ruined his life. Lost his wife, lost his kids. Lost everything. And he never really had me."

They were both quiet. Finally, Chibs said, "You were a kid, that couldn't have been your fault."

V. smiled. "I knew exactly what I was doing. Ben wanted to protect me, to help me. I used him. I'm still using him. He could lose his career over the information he gave me today." She took another shot. Pleasantly tipsy was beginning to move towards real drunkenness. She didn't care. "I've done a lot of bad things, you know? Hurt people, even killed people. This life, we have to. But there is nothing I feel so guilty about as what I've done to Ben." She leaned back, the saggy couch beginning to feel very good. "He wanted to be with me. Would have married me, even. Kept me safe. Wanted a real relationship." She shook her head. "But that's not what I'm about, I guess."

Chibs looked at V. closely. He'd never noticed before, but there were faint lines around her eyes. She was, he realized, a bit older than the girls who usually sat next to him on this sofa. And she looked tired, worn. But she was beautiful. He'd been attracted to her since the first day he'd seen her on the lot, horribly so the night he'd held her after her nightmare. This was worse than that. He knew she wouldn't like it, but her exhaustion and vulnerability made her all the more appealing. "What are you about, then?" he asked.

She laughed. Was he imagining it, or was she moving incrementally closer to him? "Not being a girlfriend, clearly. Just feelin' somethin', I guess. Fighting, drinking," she raised her glass, "fucking. Not so much thinking or talking. That's never gotten me anything but trouble."

"You sound like a man." He was subtle, but intentional, when he moved a bit closer to her. She was facing him, her bare feet still tucked underneath her.

"So I've been told." She was smiling. "Maybe I should have been. Would have been easier for everybody."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't think so, princess."

If she hadn't felt it before, she certainly felt the heat coming from him now. She'd known he wanted her since the night of her nightmare, but was fairly comfortable in their flirtation. This, though, was different. The Club's code would never have allowed Chibs to make a move on her when she was officially with Jax. But she'd told him just an hour or so ago that she wasn't with Jax now. She closed her eyes for a minute, her head spinning slightly. The bottle was lying on the couch between them now, empty.

"You drunk?" His voice was softer than usual. He felt drunk. Not sloppy, but that pleasant buzzing drunk.

"Yeah." The look in his eyes was unmistakable. She'd seen it before; she knew where it was going. She knew she should get up right now and take her drunk ass to her room, locking the door behind her. Her heart was starting to race. The reserve she'd used to tell Jax it was over, to call Ben, to stop herself from climbing the ladder to speak to the roof was gone now, though. She didn't have any strength left to do what she should do. Instead, she leaned forward a little bit more.

He, too, was trying to convince himself to do what he should do, rather than what he wanted to do. Regardless of what V. said, he knew she belonged to Jax, putting her very firmly off limits. They might not be together today, but they were yesterday, and they may well be tomorrow. Tonight, though, she was right there. Self-control had never been his strong suite.

It would be impossible to say later who kissed whom. They both knew it was going to happen, had already wrestled with it in their heads, had already made their decisions. By the time they actually kissed, it felt preordained. The kiss started out gentle, with nothing touching but their lips. Within moments, though, the bottle between them was crashing to the floor. V. wrapped her arms around Chibs' neck, he reached for her belt and pulled her towards him with his thumbs in her belt loops. She opened her mouth, letting him push his tongue past her lips. Her heart pounded and he felt it against his chest.

When they finally pulled apart, they stared at each other, both slightly shocked they'd gone even this far, and both wanting to go much farther. "You make your own decisions," he said quietly. "What do you want to do here?"

She didn't hesitate. "I don't want to be alone tonight."

He got up from the couch, holding his hand down to her. She took it and followed him down the hall.

Once they were in Chibs' room, things moved fast. He undressed her quickly and deftly. She remained mostly passive, focusing on the feeling of his fingers on her skin, listening to his voice in her ear. His brogue thickened as his excitement grew, and she didn't understand much of what he said, but the sound of it raised the hair on the back of her neck. He undressed himself, too, pulling his cut and shirt off when he felt her hands underneath it, then stepping back from her and out of his boots, then pants, when she wrapped her fingers around his belt buckle. He didn't wear underwear. He hurried, almost as if he thought she was going to change her mind, unable to slow down until he was inside her. He hoisted her onto the desk in the corner of the room; she wrapped her legs around him as he pushed inside her.

"God..." his voice was low in her ear. "So fuckin' hot." Once he'd thrust into her a few times, it was as if he realized that the barrier had been broken--they'd already done what they weren't supposed to do, so they no longer had to be afraid of not getting there. Or of getting there. He thrust more slowly, deeply, holding himself inside, waiting for her to direct him. He figured V. for the kind of girl who knew how she wanted it, and he was more than willing to give it to her however that was.

V. pushed herself forward so her mouth was level with Chibs' ear. "Fuck me. Hard."

He didn't have to be asked a second time. His pace increased, as did the depth of his thrusts. He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her head back hard, forcing her to stick out her chest. "Beautiful tits," he muttered, pushing her back into the desk. He grabbed her ankles from around his waist and held them, forcing her legs to spread wider, allowing him to hit her deeper inside.

V. muffled her scream into her hands, remembering where they were and that other club members could be right on the other side of the wall. This was sex the way she'd remembered it, before her captivity with King Leo, before Jax, who blew her mind, but with whom every interaction seemed fraught with meaning. This was just her body and his. Just the sensations--the building pleasure, the pain.

Though the bed was only a couple of feet away, they ended up on the floor. She was on top of him now, her head thrown back as she slammed her body onto his. He watched her in the dim room, her scarred stomach, her bouncing breasts. Her thighs felt strong against his hips, and if he thought he was ever going to get this chance again, he'd have been more than satisfied just to let her ride him at her own breathless pace until she came. He knew she wouldn't be back in his bed, though, so as he got close to coming he pulled her down towards him, kissing her hard and refusing to break the kiss for breathe. He lifted his hips to meet her thrusts, slamming into her with a force equaling her own, his hip bones leaving bruised indentations on the soft flesh of her inner thighs. He wrapped his arms tight around her and held her to him, and she moaned into his mouth as she came, pushing herself down onto him with all her might and not letting up. He felt her spasm and finally allowed himself to be taken away with her.


	18. Chapter 18

Chibs wasn't particularly surprised to wake up alone. His body had barely separated from V.'s before he started to feel regret in her. She didn't stop touching him--her fingers traced the scars on his face, ran over his chest--but her hand was hesitant, there was nothing of the demanding insistence he'd felt in her earlier. He regretted it too, just as instantly as she did. Even as his desire for her returned, as his idle caresses grew more persistent, he was already sorry that they'd let this happen. V. was silent, though her body was responsive, when he moved them to the bed and took her again. This time was slower, but still hard, with him lying on top of her and driving in over and over. It lasted a long time, until they were both exhausted and sated, if not happy. When he fell asleep, his body was wrapped around her's.

Chibs sat up, leaning back against the wall and reaching for his cigarettes. As he lit one, his mind replayed the events of the previous night. _Fuck, what have I done?_ His head ached from the whiskey, his body ached from her. She was exactly what he'd imagined she'd be in bed--practiced and relentless. Every move she made was right, if a bit detached. He'd been thinking about what it would be like to be with her since he first laid eyes on her, and it was exactly as he'd hoped. He sighed. _Should have kept it in your imagination, boy_. _Nothing good can come of having acted on it._

Across Charming, Jax was also waking up. He was not alone. When he'd left the clubhouse the night before he'd wanted to go inside and try to talk to V., but after watching her walk across the lot, look up at him, and then go inside, he knew there was no use in it. Instead he'd headed out on his bike. It had never taken Jax very long to find a woman to warm his bed if that's what he was looking for. This woman was one he'd been with before--a waitress, Stacy, not a club hang-around but not a woman likely to ask too many questions, either. He looked at her, still sleeping next to him. She was blonde, pretty, last night's makeup smeared across her closed eyelids. Looking at her, it occurred to him that she seemed very young. Though he remembered nothing else they'd talked about last night, he vaguely recollected her asking him, while he was inside her, if he'd missed her. He told her he had, but he hadn't. Today would be the same way--he'd leave and not think of her at all.

In her room, V. looked at herself in the mirror. There were shadows under her eyes. Her hair was tangled, her eyes sad. _I look old,_ she thought. _I look old and broken down._ She started to pull the brush through her hair. Though she was trying not to think of the previous night, she couldn't help it_. _She'd known the minute they'd kissed that they were about to make a huge mistake, but she hadn't stopped it. She could have stopped it--her desire wasn't that strong, it would have been easy--but she'd felt the way she used to feel when she leaned over to snort a line of cocaine, or when she got in the ring with someone she knew was going to kick her ass. She knew it was a bad idea; she wanted it because it was a bad idea. She shook out her just brushed hair. _It was easier than being with Jax,_ she thought. Easier to be bad, to do something wrong, to be in a situation where trust simply wasn't part of the equation. Chibs hadn't needed her to be anything for him, so there was no danger of him needing her to be something she couldn't. She shook her head.

Chibs knocked, then opened the door, not waiting to be invited. "Hey," he said.

"Hey." Her back was to him, but she met his eyes in the mirror.

"How you feeling?"

"Headache. You?"

"Headache." He smiled. This was so tense. "Should we talk about this?"

She nodded. "Close the door."

He came in, closing the door behind him, and sat on her unmade bed. He looked around. Clothes were scattered all over the small room. Some were V.'s, some Jax's. Papers, magazines, and trash cluttered the floor. "You're a slob."

"Yeah." She turned and leaned against the dresser, glancing around the room as well. There was a bra lying next to where he was sitting in the bed.

They looked at one another uncomfortably. Finally, she spoke. "Last night was a mistake."

He nodded. "I know." He looked at her. "I'm sorry."

She looked surprised. "Don't be," she said. "You didn't do anything wrong." She took a deep breath. "But this didn't happen, OK?"

He nodded. He had, he knew, done something wrong. Very wrong. And he'd been thinking the same thing--the only way this could possibly be OK was for nobody to know about it. "It never happened, and it won't happen again." He got up and moved towards the door. "V?" he asked, his hand on the knob.

"Yeah?"

"Give Jax another chance." He didn't wait for her to reply, just slipped out and left her alone again.

It was a long, tense day at Teller-Morrow. By mid-afternoon, all of the Sons had abandoned any effort at getting mechanic work done and were in the clubhouse drinking beer. Tig and Chibs took some guns from the emergency store and were at the bar attaching silencers. Juice was in the corner at his computer, trying to make himself look and feel busy. Clay and Bobby were wordlessly shooting pool while Opie looked on. V. sat on a bar stool, peeling the label off a bottle. She was dressed in cargo pants and a long-sleeved shirt, her feet bare and tucked underneath her, her hair back. In the crowded room she looked very much alone. Jax sat at the bar as well, but not on the stool next to V. He was silent.

When Happy came in the door he went immediately to V., put his arms around her, and picked her up off the stool with his hug. "Juice called me," he said. "Why didn't you tell me? I'd have taken these guys out for you."

V. smiled as he set her back down. "It's my fight," she said. "I appreciate the Club's help--and I need it--but after what this son of a bitch did to me, I want to do him myself."

Happy shook his head. His voice was gravelly and hard. "Woman shouldn't have to do a thing like that."

"My whole life has been about things women shouldn't have to do." She paused and then smiled at him. "I'm glad you're here, though. God knows how many guys Leo has with him."

Happy looked at her incredulously, but didn't say anything else. Instead, he went around the room to greet his Club brothers. Pulling Jax aside, he asked in a low voice, "You OK with her doin' this?"

"Don't have a choice," Jax replied. "She doesn't want my help. Tried to keep those photos from her and now she won't even speak to me."

"Her head's gotta be a mess," Happy said, clapping Jax on the back. "She'll come around, after we get this done."

Jax didn't answer.

Finished with his game, Clay walked towards the bar and took a beer. "Now that everybody's here," he said, "we oughta decide how this is gonna go down." He nodded his head towards the Chapel. "You too," he said to V. over his shoulder.

In the Chapel, V. told the Club all she could about what they might expect. She had no idea how many people would be with Leo, but could guess at how they'd be armed and who they might be. Leo tended to surround himself with young, dumb muscle. Usually Russian, well-armed. Possibly the man Jax had met would be there, or the other man, Hugh, but likely not. Those guys were about intimidation, not getting their hands bloody, and Leo had to be expecting a fight.

"I have to go in first," she said. "They see me, they'll open their door."

The reaction was immediate and disagreeable. Every man in the room objected.

"Do you just not get that this guy is here to kill you?" Jax asked, clearly frustrated. "He sees you at the door, you're dead before you get into the room."

V. shook her head. "No, he won't let them kill me. He'll want to do it. And he'll want to do it slow. Leo's a sadistic bastard. If he'd just wanted to put a bullet in me, he'd have done it already."

"Makes sense," Clay said. "And we can be right behind you. Then seeing you and opening the door just gets us in quieter. He turned to Juice. "What did you get on the motel security?"

"Not much there. No parking lot cameras, no guards. It's a dive."

"Good."

Looking slightly embarrassed, Juice asked, "are we going to kill all of them?"

"They deserve to die," Tig said.

Rather than responding, Clay looked at V. She shook her head. "May not need to. These guys are just muscle. Leo goes away, they go away." After a pause, she continued. "Anybody that was there the night he cut me, though, has to die." She looked around the table. Her eyes shone with hate. The men surrounding her nodded.

"You sure you're gonna be OK to do this?" Happy asked. He was sitting next to V. and reached for her hand. "Talkin' about killin' somebody and killin' 'em are two different things."

V. pulled her hand away and looked at him levelly. "I've done it before," she said. "With nowhere near this good a reason. It's not going to be a problem."

The room was completely silent, nobody sure how to respond. Finally, Clay cleared his throat and began discussing their best choice for entry and weapons.

As the conversation quieted, V. spoke again. "I want to be sure you all understand. These motherfuckers will kill you. They are not playing and they are not amateurs. And there's nothing in this for you. It's not business. It's not your responsibility. There's really no reason for you to put yourselves on the line, and I won't blame you if you don't."

Bobby shook his head. "You're a smart girl, why is it so hard for you to get this? You're with us now. You're the reason."

Chibs nodded. "You're our business. We're in this." Juice, Opie, and Happy were all nodding.

Jax looked her and shrugged--surely, by now, she knew how he felt. "I want to protect you," he said.

"You're a friend of this club," Clay said. "We take care of our friends."

V. smiled. "Thank you."

Nobody spoke as the Sons and V. went out to load into the black van. Each member of the group was outfitted in a bullet-proof vest, and the Sam Crow members had all removed their cuts and left them at the clubhouse. As they approached the vehicle, a blue car pulled into the lot. A young blonde woman got out and ran towards Jax.

"Hi! Are you ready to go?" She hugged him and kissed his mouth.

Jax looked confused. "Uh, go where? I got things to do."

She woman stepped back, pouting cutely. "Don't you remember? Last night..." she gave him a smile that made her meaning clear, "you said we'd go out tonight."

"Shit," Jax muttered. Then he pulled the woman aside and began talking to her in a hushed tone. Several of the other Sons snickered.

Opie moved to stand next to V. "You alright?" He cocked his head slightly towards where Jax was escorting the blonde woman back to her car.

V. nodded. "Doesn't matter, Ope," she said. Looking up, she met Chibs' gaze. He smiled at her, trying to be reassuring. "All that matters is Leo."


	19. Chapter 19

The parking lot of the California Cabana motel was nearly empty when the van pulled in. Across the street, V. noticed Half-Sack sitting against the wall of a vacant building. He'd been on the lookout all day and had reported to them via cell phone that nobody had been in or out of the motel for hours. As soon as the rest of them entered the motel room, he was going to jump into the van and be prepared to drive them away as quickly as possible.

The first stop was the registration desk. V. got out of the van and went in. As Half-Sack had reported, a young, stoned-looking man sat behind the desk, watching a small TV. He barely looked up. "Can I help you?"

V. smiled as widely as she could manage and leaned over the desk. _Fucking Californians,_ she thought. "I hope so," she said. "I'm looking for some friends who are staying here. Bunch of guys, probably speaking Russian. They told me what room they were in, but I can't for the life of me remember." Feeling silly, she widened her eyes.

"I'm not allowed to tell you what room a guest is in," said the young man. His eyes were raised now though, taking V. in.

"C'mon, please? They're expecting me." V. stuck her lower lip out. "They won't mind." She smiled again. "We're gonna have a party. Maybe you could come by later." She raised her eyebrows slightly.

The man looked more closely at V. "Yeah, OK," he said. What could it hurt? "Your friends are in Room 6, other side of the building." He smiled his stoner smile at her. "And you tell them that they have to pay extra for too many people if anybody sees them in the morning."

V. smiled widely again. "OK, I'll tell them. Thank you!" Turning to leave the room, the smile faded instantly. For a moment, she felt horribly guilty for the mess the stoner, or some other minimum wage employee, was probably going to find. But it had to be done.

Tig was driving the van. Meeting his eyes, V. nodded. Coming up to the open window, she said, "Room 6, on the other side."

Tig nodded. "You good to go?"

"Yep." Without looking back at the motel office, she pulled her gloves out of her pocket and put them on.

V. walked on the sidewalk edging the motel, staying close to the wall. Tig maneuvered the van into a parking spot a few doors down from Room 6. Silently, the Sons climbed out of the van. Each man held a large gun fitted with a silencer. Jax approached V. and handed her a gun like the one he was holding. "You OK?" he whispered.

"Yeah." She didn't look OK. Her face was stark white above her hooded sweatshirt. When she reached out to take the gun from him, her hands were shaking.

He wanted to say something to make her feel better. He wanted to tell her, just in case things went badly, how he felt about her. But it was all too complicated. There was no more time. Without giving her the opportunity to walk away, he pulled her quickly into his chest.

"I'm scared Jax," her voice was muffled and so soft he almost thought he'd imagined it. They were words he wouldn't have expected her to say.

"I know." He kissed her forehead quickly. "But we're right here. We've got your back."

As Jax turned from her, V. smiled. "Now you're gettin' it," she said softly.

Clay gave V. a questioning look. His intention was clear; he wanted to know if she was ready.

V. nodded. Silently, Clay, Tig, and Happy moved to the right side of the door to Room 6. Chibs, Bobby, and Jax flanked it on the left. Opie and Juice stood farther away, ready to move on anyone who made it out of the room. V. walked straight up to the door. With one hand she held the gun Jax gave her low, so it wouldn't be visible to the person looking through the peephole. Closing her eyes for a moment, then taking a deep breath, she knocked on the door.

There was a slight rustling sound from inside. V. looked straight into the peephole. The men surrounding her were completely out of sight to the person looking out the door, and she didn't look at them either, but she could feel them there, close to her, ready. She was terrified, but she also felt something so new she barely recognized it. She wasn't alone.

When the door opened, things moved fast. Just as a hand reached out for V., the Sons were behind her in force, pushing her inside. Without thinking, V. hoisted the rifle she was holding and hit the man in front of her across the face with all her might. He fell to the floor, his nose gushing, and she trained the gun on him. On V.'s left, Jax was subduing another man in a similar manner. Chibs and Bobby had moved to the door connecting the room to the one next door, covering it in case there were more men. On V.'s right, Tig and Happy each had a man down on the floor. No shots had been fired.

V. looked up. Clay was in front of her, his gun to the head of a man who hadn't rushed the door, but instead sat quietly in the desk chair. "Keep still, motherfucker," Clay said.

"Leo." The word was out of V.'s mouth before she had time to think. She dug her booted foot into the man on the floor, making sure he was down. He wasn't moving.

Satisfied that nobody was coming in the door, Chibs moved to her side. "I got this one," he said. "Go."

V. stepped forward. Her eyes were fixed on the sitting man's face. He was older than the rest--probably in his late 40s. He wasn't very large, seeming even smaller with Clay towering over him. His eyes were blue and narrow, his head mostly bald. He was dressed in a suit and seemed not at all bothered by the gun trained on him.

"Victoria," Leo said. "I thought we might see you tonight." He looked around at the Sons. "Can't say I'm impressed by your choice of friends, though." He smiled, showing sharp, broken teeth. "Which one of you is my Victoria's new gentleman? Or is it more than one of you? She's never been a very faithful girl, I'm afraid." He returned his gaze to V. "I'm glad you're here. I've brought you a special surprise."

For a long moment, V. was silent, unable to speak in the face of this man who had taken so much from her. From their positions around the room, everyone was watching her. She could feel them, nearly hear their thoughts as they began to worry that she wouldn't be able to handle this. It may have been nothing beyond her own stubbornness that finally broke the silence.

"You have nothing that could surprise me," she said, her voice cold. She raised her gun and pointed it at Leo's head, still standing a few feet away from him.

Leo raised his eyebrows. "Oh, I think you're wrong." He shook his head. "But you always were so sure of your opinion." His eyes moved to Jax, and to the man Jax was holding face down on the floor. "The blonde one, he's your man, isn't he? Nice alpha boy. Do you have him completely emasculated yet? You're predictable, Victoria." He clucked his tongue. "Tell your boy to step off so you can see your surprise."

"Shut the fuck up," Jax growled, seeing again how much this man was getting to V. Using his foot, his gun still trained on him, he pushed the man he was guarding over so that he was lying face up.

Clay hadn't moved, his gun still pointed at Leo. V. met his eyes, then turned around. Then she screamed. "Devin! No! You're dead!" Her eyes were wide. She stepped forward and to her knees on the floor. She put her hand out and touched the man's face.

Jax looked down. Now that he paid attention, the man he'd hit could well be V.'s brother. He was tall and thin, not really built like V., but Jax could see her in Devin's face. His mouth was small, and his eyes, though blue rather than green, reminded Jax of her a bit. His hair and beard were dark, as opposed to the lighter ones of the other men in the room.

Though he'd been hit hard, Devin was conscious. He didn't reach back out to V., but instead sat up, then stood in front of her. His nose was bleeding. "Hey Sis."

V. got to her feet, her eyes never leaving her brother's face. He walked around her, standing now between her and Leo. Uneasy, Jax exchanged a look with Clay, who nodded slightly and kept his gun on Leo.

"What...what happened?" V. asked. "They told me you were dead." Her eyes were wet. She looked past Devin, at Leo. "You told me he was dead. I sat up in that fucking room and thought my brother was dead!"

Devin shook his head. "Always about you, isn't it Vic? Queen V. Nice to see nothing has changed."

V. looked at her brother. "What? Tell me what happened!" She looked panicked, almost crazed. Instinctively, Jax moved closer behind her. He didn't hold up his gun, but he was ready.

"And now you're giving orders. You really are the same V." Devin sneered. "So I'm not dead. Never was. The end. Now call this old man off, he's got his gun on my boss."

"Your boss?" V.'s voice was quieter now. Her hands shook.

"Yes, V., my boss. Christ. Don't play stupid." V. stared at him. "Are you putting this together, or do I need to spell it out?"

V. said nothing, staring. Devin snorted. "Oh come on, Vic, don't clam up now. You spent your whole life telling me what to do. Jumping in and saving me. Surely you've got something to say."

V.'s mouth was open. "I...I was taking care of you." She was crying now. "I tried to protect you."

Devin laughed. "Oh, yeah, you did. Always trying to protect me. To take care of me. Couldn't ever let me take care of myself, could you Vic? You always had to be in charge." He snorted. "You know how we grew up, V. No way I could be a man with big sis always fighting my fights."

V.'s face was contorted in a way none of them had ever seen. Tears streamed down her cheeks, into her mouth. Her jaw quivered.

Devin looked at Jax, standing just to V.'s left. "You my sister's man now?" He shook his head. "I feel sorry for you, brother." He returned his gaze to V. "She doesn't quite get what it means to be a man."

For what seemed like a long time, V. said nothing. She just stared at her brother and cried. Finally, she spoke. "Did you know? Did you know what they did to me? Did you know I was a prisoner?"

Devin smiled again, his face cruel. "You did that to yourself," he said. "You offered yourself up. Like a whore."

"They were going to kill you!"

"Yeah. But it was my fight. Just like always. You did exactly what I knew you'd do."

"What you knew I'd do?" V.'s voice was low, cracked. She swallowed hard. "Jesus. You sold me to them." At the end, if wasn't a question. She knew.

"You should have learned to mind your own fucking business, Vic." Devin looked vaguely sad, but also somehow proud of himself.

Jax started to step forward, unable to stand what he was hearing, or the look he was seeing on V.'s face. Automatically, V. put her hand out, stopping him from getting any closer to her brother.

"See man?" Devin snorted. "She's always gotta call the shots. Won't ever let you do for her."

"Jesus." As she spoke, V.'s voice got louder, stronger. "Those bastards nearly killed me! They cut me open and killed my child. And you gave me to them?" Quickly, reflexively, her arm extended and she hit her brother squarely across the jaw, knocking him into Leo, who had been quietly observing, a self-satisfied smirk painted on his face.

Smiling through bloody teeth, Devin struggled back to his feet, standing in front of Leo. "You still got a mean right hook, Sis."

"Get out of the way." The tears were still streaming down her cheeks, but V.'s voice had returned now. "I'll deal with you later. Right now I got business with Leo."

"Not gonna happen, V.," Devin said. He took a small step closer to Leo.

"I'm sorry Victoria," said Leo. "Must be hard, finding out your only family is alive just to have him choose me over you." He smirked. "It's a good thing you didn't have a child. Probably would have made the same choice."

The look that crossed V.'s face was one of unadulterated hatred. "Devin, get out of the way."

Still, Devin didn't move. Slowly, V. raised her gun, then turned it and hit him with it, hard, upside the head. He attempted to duck, but she was faster. He fell to the ground, bleeding, unconscious.

V.'s eyes met Leo's once more. Clay was still holding his gun against Leo's head. Slowly, V. reached down and pulled up the leg of her pants, removing the knife from her boot.

"Do you remember this?" There was nothing in her voice now but hate.

"Victoria, I had no idea you were so sentimental."

"You stuck this knife in my gut and killed my baby. Then you left him, and me, on the ground to die." V.'s voice remained calm, as if she was describing something that had happened to someone else.

"Don't be dramatic, Victoria. Can't have been your first abortion." Leo still didn't look scared, only slightly amused. The Sons were all made uncomfortable by his calm.

"You are a stupid man," V. said in that same cold voice. "You thought I'd go to the Feds. Did it really never occur to you that I'd rather kill you myself?"

Leo still smiled. It was as if he still knew something they didn't. "Really Victoria? Why would I worry? You never killed me when you had the chance. You could have. I laid with you, unarmed, unguarded, many times. You hated me, yet you never even raised your hand. Do you think you've changed now, my love? What are you now that you weren't then?"

V.'s eyes shone. While Clay kept the gun pointed at the back of his head, she raised the knife to Leo's throat. Her motion was sharp, decisive. She didn't hesitate. When she pulled the knife across the man's jugular, blood sprayed through the air. It rained down on her, on Jax, on Devin, his body still on the floor. "Now I'm somebody's mother," she said.


	20. Chapter 20

For a moment, time in the room seemed to stop. Leo's head fell, his body slumping down in the chair. V. didn't lower the knife, but remained standing with it held out, frozen, covered in blood. Jax stood next to her, also very still, his eyes not on the dead man, but on V.'s face. Clay, too, was still, his gun still pointed at where Leo's head had been.

Finally, Tig motioned for Bobby to cover the man he was standing over, then stepped towards V. and Jax. "Freak out later," he said in a low, cold voice. "We gotta finish this now and get out of here." He reached out and grabbed V.'s shoulder. "What do you want to do about the rest of these guys? And your brother?"

V. turned towards Tig, her face still blank. She lowered the knife. Slowly, she nodded. She moved past Tig, looking for the first time at the three men on the floor. "Get them up."

Chibs, Happy, and Bobby all hauled the men they were guarding to their feet. All three men were bleeding, but conscious. V.'s eyes moved over them. She didn't recognize two of them. The third was one of those who had attacked her from the van. She walked towards him. "You," she said. "You tried to kidnap me. Do you want to live?" Happy was holding a gun to the man's head.

"Yes," he said.

"This man," V. gestured to Happy, "would be more than happy to put a bullet in your head."

Happy laughed. "That I would."

"That goes for all you," V. said, looking around. "These men won't have any problem killing you."

Bobby and Chibs both moved a bit closer to the men they were guarding, making it clear that V. was correct.

"If I ever see any of you again," V. continued. "Then one of these men will kill you. Or I'll do it myself. Do you understand?"

All three of the guarded men nodded.

"If anybody ever hears about what happened here tonight, you will die. Do you understand?" The men continued to nod.

"OK. Go back to Texas." V. turned towards her brother, still unconscious on the floor. "And take him with you."

She turned back to Tig. "Can we get rid of him?" she asked, gesturing at Leo.

"Yeah," Clay said. "But you don't have to do that." He looked at Jax. "Get the Prospect's bike, take her home. We'll deal with this."

V. opened her mouth to protest and Clay spoke again. "Sweetheart, give in on this one. Let us help you."

Jax nodded, agreeing, for once, with Clay. His hand on her back, he steered V. towards the door. Chibs stopped them, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handkerchief, then handing it to V. "Wipe your face off, princess," he said softly. She smiled warily, her face blank and far away. Chibs' hand closed over hers, helping her wipe the worst of the blood from her face. "It's going to be OK now," he said.

Jax exchanged a glance with Chibs. In reality, neither man was at all sure V. was going to be OK. Her face was a bloody blank. The knife was still in her hand. Jax reached out and took the knife from her. "It's OK," he said. "Do you want to get rid of this?" Slowly, V. shook her head. "OK," Jax said. "I'll hold it for you." Taking the handkerchief from Chibs, he wiped the blade. V. shook her head again. She leaned over, pulling up her pants. Jax nodded, then knelt and returned the knife to V.'s boot holster.

As Jax straightened back up, V. finally met his gaze. Reaching out, she took his hand. "Good," he murmured. "Let's go." He glanced back at Tig and Clay. "You're OK on this?"

Tig nodded. "Yeah brother. Just take her home."

As they reached the door, V. stopped and turned around. "Don't kill my brother," she said to Tig. "I know you probably want to. I want to. Please don't."

"It's your call," Tig said. "You want us to leave him, he stays."

V. nodded. "Thank you."

On Half-Sack's bike, neither V. nor Jax said a word. She wrapped her arms around him and held on as tightly as she ever had. He wasn't sure, but as he sped back towards Charming, he thought he felt her crying against his back. Stopping at a light, he lowered a hand off the handlebars and squeezed her hand. She tightened her grip, but said nothing.

By the time they got back to Teller-Morrow, Jax could feel V. shaking behind him on the bike. When he could finally turn around to look at her, he saw she was sobbing, blood and tears mixing grotesquely on her face. He pulled her into his arms, holding her close to him in the parking lot. "It's gonna be OK," he repeated, over and over. "Nobody's gonna hurt you anymore." Standing under a street light, he rocked her gently, and, in a way that was totally unlike her, she just allowed herself to cry into his chest. He stroked her hair, inhaling her scent. It seemed much longer than just a couple of days ago since he'd shared his bed with this woman. Feeling her in his arms again now, so broken, he wasn't sure how he'd ever let her go again.

Finally, she moved out of his grasp. Her sobs had slowed, though tears were still running down her face. Without saying anything, he took her hand and let her inside, through the clubhouse and back into her room. "V.," he said softly. "We need to get cleaned up and get rid of these clothes." V. looked down. Her shirt and pants were soaked with Leo's blood. Jax, too, was covered. She nodded. He turned, intending to leave the room so that V. could undress and get into the shower.

"No, Jax," V.'s voice was soft. "Please. Stay with me." Her eyes met his. "I don't want to be alone."

"Sure." Jax smiled slightly. He stood in front of her awkwardly, not sure what to do. She looked at him and waited. Slowly, he reached out, grabbing the hem of her sweatshirt and pulling it gently over her head. "This OK?" he murmured. She nodded and moved closer to him. He continued to undress her very slowly, pulling her tank top over her head, unhooking her bra, unbuttoning her cargo pants. Soon, she stood in front of him naked, her hands and face still spattered with blood. She reached out, then, and began to unbutton his shirt. He helped her, his eyes locked with her's.

After he was undressed, Jax took V.'s hand again, leading her into the bathroom. He turned on the shower, then led her into it. She didn't speak for several moments, watching the blood run off of their bodies and down the drain. Finally, she said, "Devin wasn't always like that."

Jax nodded, watching her face. "I'm sorry," he said.

"I didn't realize he hated me so much." V. tipped her head back, letting the water run through her hair. "I should have, I guess. But I didn't."

"You just tried to protect him," Jax said, reaching out to her and smoothing her wet hair off her face. "There's nothing wrong with that."

V. smiled. "Well, my intentions were good, anyway." She sighed. "I wanted to kill him tonight. I thought about killing him."

Jax nodded. "I know. I don't blame you." He smiled slightly. "I thought about killing him, too." He reached out and touched V.'s wet face. "I can't imagine how hard tonight was for you, baby. But you did good."

"Thanks." V.'s face was sad. "I thought I'd be relieved. Or I'd feel guilty. But I don't feel anything, really. Just tired."

"It will get better."

"I hope so." V. looked at Jax, his damp hair sticking to his face, droplets of water beading on his chest. "Thank you, Jax."

"Of course," he said. He tried to keep his eyes on her face, to ignore her wet body, only inches from his. This wasn't the time. Jax's arousal never had great timing, though. V. moved towards him, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him with her into the shower stream. He bit his lips, trying to will his body to cooperate. It didn't. She felt so right.

V. thought of pretending she didn't notice Jax's hardness against her belly. The way he was trying to hold himself away from her implied that he'd prefer she not notice it. She felt the stirring inside herself as well. "Is it twisted," she finally asked, "to want you so much right now?"

"I'm probably not the right person to ask," Jax replied. Unable to help himself, he pulled her tighter to him, flattening her breasts against his chest. His face was close to her's, his lips within inches of her mouth.

"I don't know how I'm going to feel about this tomorrow, Jax," V. said softly, he eyes focused on his mouth. "I can't make promises."

"But tonight?" he asked.

"Tonight all I want is to be with you."

Jax kissed her very softly. She responded with equal tenderness. The kiss was long, lingering, gentle. The shower spray rained down on them, the blood long since washed from their skin. He held her against him, running his hands slowly down her sides, under her hair and over her back. He moved his mouth from her lips, landing kisses on her forehead, against her temple, down onto her throat. His pace never increased. She closed her eyes, thinking of nothing, just letting herself feel him, fall away into the warm water and his pressing body.

Jax and V. stayed in the shower a long time. He washed her hair, holding her back against him while the white suds rinsed down his chest. They spoke very little, but moved comfortably together, with her following his lead. When the water began to cool, he stepped out of the shower first, finding a towel and wrapping it around her. As she dried off, he resumed kissing her, his lips trailing down her arms. He picked up each of her hands, kissing the center of her palms. When she dropped the towel, he stepped back and looked at her.

"You're so beautiful."

She smiled. "You're not bad yourself."

"Come to bed with me."

She nodded. He took her hand. They stepped over the piles of bloody clothes. V. looked down at them, but didn't begin to shake or cry. It was done. It had to be done and now it was. Jax let go of her for only long enough to switch off the light, then got into bed next to her.

"There's something I want to tell you," he said, pulling her close to him.

"OK." She raised raised her face and kissed him.

"I'm not sure if you'll want to hear it," he continued, "but I need to say it."

V. nodded, realizing whatever it was, it was serious.

"I'm in love with you."

The room was very quiet. _I've never been in the clubhouse before when it's been quiet,_ V. thought. Jax continued. "I don't think you want me to be, but I am. I can't not think about you. I can't not try to keep you safe."

V. kissed Jax's lips. "I've never been in love, Jax," she said. "I don't think I know how. I'm afraid being in love with me won't be good for you. I'm afraid it won't make you happy." She kissed him again. "But it makes me happy to hear it."

He smiled. It wasn't the response most men would expect, but it wasn't bad. It was something. He returned her kiss, deepening it. "Will you try?" he asked. "Will you try to let me love you?"

She kissed him again. "Yes," she said. "I will."

***

Note: Whew! I didn't intend for that to be so long! Thank you for sticking with it and I hope you enjoyed it. Do let me know if you'd be interested in a sequel sometime down the line.


End file.
